The Ghost in the Machine

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The Ghost in the Machine Page 14

by Mary Woodbury


  Ben sat down beside Haley. “I’m staying here.”

  Ty gazed at Ben’s face. His jaw was stiff and his fists were clenched.

  “Why don’t you just go and have a drink with your buddies?” Haley suggested, glaring at Doug Beaton. “You’re old enough to go in the bar, aren’t you?”

  “You going to let a girl do your talking, Tubby?”

  The two guys standing behind Dougie shrugged. Four kids in the booth beside them slid out and headed for the door.

  The owner of the Burger Barn came out of the kitchen and headed down the aisle toward them. “Take your argument outside,” he said.

  Doug Beaton stood there like a rock. Ben sat still. Haley was stirring the melting ice cubes in her half-empty glass of iced tea.

  Ty hesitated. He took a five dollar bill from his jean pocket and laid it ever so carefully on the table. Then he stood up. “Yeah, why don’t we take this outside?” He shoved past Dougie and walked toward the door. He heard Ben and Haley as they followed him.

  “Not so fast, little brother,” Dougie yelled as the three kids hurried across the street to the schoolyard and the crowded parking lot. “Not so cotton-picking fast.”

  Ty turned then and faced Dougie Beaton.

  “Back off, Doug,” he said. “Ben’s with us.”

  Doug stopped in his tracks. His two friends were still clustered behind him. But Doug was studying Ty Graham, sizing him up. And Ty knew it. He stood his ground. He knew he had sprouted this summer. He knew how strong his arms were from splitting firewood and swimming. He knew how the muscles in his body had gotten firmer with the running and cycling. He knew how to wrestle, thanks to the school team. He felt adrenaline flood his system.

  “So young Tyler Graham’s grown up, has he?” Doug went into a boxer’s crouch.

  So did Ty.

  “Ty, don’t,” Haley said.

  “Dougie, it’s none of your business. It’s my life,” said Ben.

  “You’re a Beaton, boy, and don’t forget it.”

  “He’s an Armstrong too,” said Ty. He didn’t want to fight this kid. It wasn’t his style. He tried to back away, his hands up to his sides. “Why don’t we just cool it?”

  “I don’t think so, brain boy.” Doug came at Ty.

  Doug’s right fist aimed for Ty’s jaw and Ty ducked.

  “This is stupid,” yelled Haley. “You should be fighting fires, not each other.”

  Ty and Doug locked in a struggle. They fell to the ground and rolled on the gravel. The rocks bit into Ty’s back as he wrestled. He tried to ignore the sharp pin-like pains. Doug grunted as Ty forced the older boy’s back onto the gravel.

  Ty thought he heard the wrestling coach yelling at him in gym to focus. They rolled. Ty reached out and grabbed Doug’s flailing right arm and pinned it behind his back and sat on him.

  Just then two of the RCMP officers broke through the crowd of kids that had gathered to watch.

  “Okay, boys, break it up!”

  Ty let go of Doug. Doug flipped over and before anyone could stop him landed one good punch in Ty’s stomach. Ty slumped over. He tasted raw acid. He smelled Dougie’s sweat and the dust from the schoolyard. He felt every bone in his body scream as he pulled himself up to a sitting position.

  “That punch wasn’t fair,” exclaimed Haley. “At least Ty was fighting fair. I don’t understand why guys fight, anyway,” She sounded exasperated. “Fighting doesn’t solve anything.”

  “You did great, Ty,” said Ben, bending down to give Ty his hand.

  Ty groaned as he stood. He nodded.

  “Thanks,” said Ben.

  Ty dusted himself off and limped into the gymnasium. Clusters of worried people were everywhere. Some were talking about rescuing farm animals. The noise gave him a headache. He cleaned up in the boy’s bathroom before heading over to his family’s bunks.

  Grandpa Graham and three of his old buddies were playing poker. They each had a pile of wooden matches in front of them.

  Grandma and Veronica were colouring pictures in a Mickey Mouse colouring book. The sweet tang of crayons reminded Ty of the hours he had spent colouring pictures. Childhood seemed so long ago. He felt ancient after this summer, old enough to drive, to fight, to kiss a girl.

  “Where’s Ma?” he asked.

  “She went out to the car,” said Veronica.

  “Said she’d forgotten a couple of things,” said Grandma. “Your dad’s coming home, I hear, to fight the fire right here in his own valley. Nobody’s safe.”

  “We’ll be fine, Grandma. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s what Lyle said.” Ida Graham sighed. “He and Grandpa argued about how to fight fires for ages on the phone. Our telephone bill is going to put us in the poor house, for sure.”

  “We’ll be fine, Grandma.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. She was so thin and hunched he was afraid to break her bones now that he was big. Was his dad standing up to Grandpa? What was happening to his family?

  “What in the name of Harry!” yelled Grandpa. “Of all the stupid cards to play, Mort.”

  “The older you get, the crankier you are,” Mort retorted. He tapped his cards with his fingers. “It’s the arthritis talking. I keep telling myself that, you old coot.”

  Ty walked over and stared over his grandpa’s shoulder.

  Ty’s Grandpa was in good voice. Even his best friends had to put up with his put downs. Ty studied the four card players. His grandpa was the scrawniest of the lot. His gnarled hands looked shaky and fragile. His eyes were fierce and his voice loud. But the rest of him was old and bent. He was shrinking and Ty had never noticed how much.

  “If you ever want a ride in my car, Grandpa,” Ty said. “Just say the word.”

  “Harrumph!” Grandpa snorted. “Who would have thought a grandson of mine would drive a Volkswagen.”

  Ty sighed. Maybe his grandpa was scared. He had been a strong man, in control of his farm, his family and his life. Now, what did he have? The poor old coot. He wasn’t an easy guy, his grandpa, but maybe Ty could find a way to work with him. After all, Grandpa Rod had bought those ramps for him. He had helped.

  Ty wandered over to where Haley was sitting with Robin Nixon. “I thought you were staying in the four-star hotel.”

  “I don’t want to intrude,” said Robin. “Haley’s free to stay with her folks.”

  “We’re thinking of getting permission to run back and pick up some stuff,” said Haley.

  “I need my computer and back-up disks.”

  “And her favourite books.”

  Ty nodded. He could understand. He had some precious things tucked in his backpack — an arrowhead, his swimming medal from Grade 7, the latest Philip Pullman and J.K. Rowling books.

  “Has anyone seen my crazy uncle, the hermit?” Ben Beaton sat down on the edge of Robin Nixon’s cot.

  “I haven’t seen him since Haley and I met him up on the mountain,” said Ty.

  “Me neither,” added Haley.

  “He hasn’t signed in. Mom checked with Sage and Basil.”

  “Have your grandparents seen him?” asked Ty.

  “They’re over at the pub drowning their sorrows. I can’t go there. Dougie’s with them.”

  “Are the rest of your family safe?” asked Haley.

  “Lynette’s helping in the kitchen. I’ll tell her I’m going.”

  “If we can get permission, do you want to go look for him?” asked Haley.

  “Sure.”

  Ty walked with them to the doors. He left Haley and Ben talking to the evacuation coordinator and went out to the parking lot to check on Princess and his mom.

  The air was muggy and filled with smoke. The light had grown dimmer. If only it would rain, all their troubles would be drowned. Ty sighed. His sneakers crunched on the dusty gravel as he headed to the far corner of the parking lot. He looked up ready to admire the transformed Volkswagen.

  The car was gone. Two kids were doing summersaults around the metal tubing
fence that divided the parking lot from the playground.

  “Did you see someone take the red VW that was parked here?”

  “Yeah, some lady in a sundress.”

  His mother had taken Princess. His mother had driven off in the car. But where?

  Grandma had said that Mom had forgotten a couple of things. Maybe they weren’t things in the car. Maybe they were things she had forgotten at home. Ty started to run. He ran to the street and down the sidewalk to the highway. Mom had taken Princess and driven back into the fire zone. She had gone alone. She and Princess.

  He jogged down the highway past Ralph’s junkyard, past the cement company. What exactly was he doing?

  He couldn’t run all the way home. He was tired. After all, he’d swam across the lake already today. His left shoulder, his stomach, and his right leg were sore after his fight with Dougie Beaton.

  An empty truck passed, going into town. The sound of a helicopter overhead and a siren in the distance echoed off the walls of the town. Pine needles crushed under his feet as he ran into the smoke. To his left he could see the fertile flats at the south end of Kootenay Lake beyond and below the railway tracks. This was his valley and it was on fire up ahead just past his house. And he knew suddenly as he knew his own name. He knew where his mother had gone. She had taken Princess up the road behind the farm up to Uncle Scott’s trailer, up to her rock garden.

  He had to go and bring her back.

  Chapter 23

  As Ty ran down the empty highway, he heard a rough motor behind him. He headed off the shoulder onto the grass so the vehicle could pass him safely.

  “Honk! Honk!” A voice called. A van pulled off the road in front of him. It was Robin Nixon’s.

  “Get in,” hollered Haley. “Dinah! What a doofus! Where are you going?”

  Ben slid open the back door. “We looked for you everywhere.”

  “Where’s Princess?” Haley asked.

  Ty explained his theory. “I'll run up the mountain and get Mom and Princess while you guys load up at Nixons.”

  He was relieved to be sitting in the comfortable old van that smelt of zucchini and peaches instead of running down the road in the smoke. He’d pushed his body hard enough for one day. He was nearly out of gas.

  “Your mom has some things up there that are pretty precious,” said Robin Nixon.

  “So we gathered.” Haley told her aunt about their trip to the trailer.

  “Grace needed someone to hear her story. I can understand that,” Robin Nixon sighted. “Human beings need to tell their stories, or they get walled in like prisoners in a castle.”

  His dad had been hurt on that day four years ago, too. But Lyle Graham had run away a different way; he’d gone logging, gone with his buddies.

  “Maybe we’re all Sleeping Beauties,” Ty said. “Like Princess.” And my mom. The van was quiet. The fields on each side slid past. The cows huddled in groups by the fences.

  “What happens to ghosts in a fire,” said Haley. “Isn’t there a ghost in your house, Ty? Robin says there is.”

  “What’s this about ghosts?” asked Ben. “I’ve seen my dad. In my dreams. He’s always tossing a ball to me. Then he walks away into the trees. I let him go but it hurts.”

  Robin Nixon pulled into her laneway and stopped. Ty jumped out.

  “Do you need company?” Haley asked. “Should we come back for you?”

  Ty shook his head. “I’ll be in Princess.” He jogged down the road. “Catch you later.”

  “We’re heading to the Forest Road after to check on Herman,” Robin Nixon called.

  “Okay!”

  In the distance Ty could hear trucks rumbling and grumbling down the highway. So much for their quiet valley. Every once in a while a police cruiser or an emergency vehicle passed. The stench of fuel and fire was thick. His heartbeat played in his ears like drums.

  He ran up the path behind the mailboxes. The woods felt alive as if they were alert to the danger from above, as if the creatures that lived there were sending messages into the smoky air. Run for safety. Head to the lake.

  Princess was parked in the clearing beside the trailer. Ty’s mom looked up as he loped across the flat patch in front of the car.

  “Ma, you should have told me. I would have come with you.”

  She sighed, “I didn’t think I was ready to share this.”

  “Did you get Uncle Scott’s portfolio?”

  “I loaded all his artwork in Princess,” she reassured him. “Do you think the fire’s headed this way?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  His mom’s gaze wandered over to the rock cairns in the shelter of the tall trees.

  “They’ll be all right, Ma,” Ty said. “You can leave them here.”

  Grace Graham blinked several times in rapid succession. “What?”

  Ty leaned against the hood of the car as if Princess would give him the courage he needed. “Your ghosts, Ma. They’re safe where they are. Fire can’t hurt them. Julie and Scott.”

  “I meant to tell you. It’s just you being a boy and all, I didn’t think…”

  “It’s alright. Dad told me. I had just about figured it out myself.”

  “I’m glad.” She pulled a photo out of her pocket. “Look what I found in there, in the drawer.” She held the colour snap out to Ty. One was of Princess back when she was a much younger car. Standing beside the VW was a young man, a teenager. It was Ty’s Uncle Scott in faded blue jeans and a blue jean shirt.

  It was the ghost and the machine.

  His mother had walked over to the cairns. “I know they are safe, Tyler, I know. They’re safe, but am I? Are you?”

  Ty slid into the driver’s seat. He ran his hands over the steering wheel, adjusted the rear-view mirror, and started the motor. “Yes, Ma, we’re safe, believe me. We need to get away from the mountain,” he added. Gently he placed the photo on the dash in front of the passenger seat.

  His mother knelt in the dust under the trees for one brief moment. Then she locked the trailer and dragged the old wooden flat away from the front door.

  “Let’s go.” She tied her hair back with a pink ribbon. “How’d you get here?” Ty told her as he drove. The van was gone from Nixon’s yard so they headed north to Herman’s place. As they neared the Forest Road turnoff, they could see a roadblock up ahead on the highway by the golf course. Out on the lake a few people were busy moving their boats to a safer harbour. Marvin Beaton was moving the boat Ben had used to supervise the swim. The beach that nestled at the foot of the Forest Road was deserted. Only the blackened, scarred remnants of someone’s campfire and a broken folding aluminium chair with yellow plastic strips, hunkered in the sand like an artefact from some lost civilization.

  What if the Grahams were burnt out? What if they had to leave the valley? Ty’s mind sank like a stone falling into the middle of the lake. There was no bottom, no safety net. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, like it was a life preserver, and drove up the Forest Road. Nixon’s van was parked in front of Herman’s strange sideways log house.

  “We can’t find him anywhere!” Ben cried out.

  Haley and Robin Nixon came from behind the house. “His old broken-down truck is here with a flat tire.”

  Ty’s mom hopped out. Robin Nixon came over and gave her a hug. They sure were a huggy lot. He’d never know that about his mom. Or else he’d forgotten. Maybe when you hurt as much as she did, you didn’t ask for the hugs you needed.

  “I bet he’s up the mountain with his trees,” Ty said. “Those pines are his family.” He sprinted up the path. He ached but he ran anyway. Ben was huffing and puffing behind him.

  “Your mom, Haley, and Robin Nixon are gathering a few of his things together. They’ll leave water and kibble out for the dogs.”

  Up ahead through the trees Ty could see Herman. He was sitting with his back against a lodgepole pine. He was stuffing things into a sack.

  “Hi, Herman. We’ve come to take you out,” ca
lled Ben. “Everyone’s in town at the gym.”

  “These kids came back for you, old Herman. What are you going to do? What about all the holy medals on the trees at the top? Won’t they get lost?”

  Ty looked down and saw the sack was filled with crosses and holy medals. “The trees up top need them, Herman. Leave them there.”

  “The boy may be right. He’s got good blood. I told my brother Lynette would be fine with the Armstrong boy. But no one listened to me.”

  Herman grabbed hold of the tree and stood up. His shaggy head nearly touched the lowest branch. He was seven foot tall and solid as a tree trunk. He stood there for a moment, staring around at his trees. Then he moved to the van.

  Herman sprawled on the back seat and didn’t say a word. He clutched his sack of precious medals in his lap.

  “I’ll follow you down,” said Tyler as Haley started the van. “I have to tighten the brakes while Princess is on level ground.” Going back down the hilly Forest Road he would need them.

  His mother sat quietly in the passenger seat while he worked.

  Ty put rocks in front of the wheels to stop Princess from moving. Then he took his tool kit and the old grey blanket out of the trunk. He tossed the blanket on the ground and slid under the car on his back. With the flashlight in one hand and his screwdriver in the other, Ty found the maintenance hole for one of the brakes. He used the screwdriver to tighten the brake shoes. Then he scooted over and adjusted the other brake.

  The air suddenly filled with sound. A flock of crows flew down the mountain, their cries like wounded children. Crash! Bang! The earth shuddered beneath Ty’s feet. He glanced up the mountain and saw a flaming tree dance and fall. The fire had leapt the road above and was moving down the mountain toward them. Forest Road was smouldering.

  Ty closed the hatch, tossed his tools, blanket, and gloves in the back seat, and jumped in the car. He turned the key in the ignition, once, twice. The third time it caught.

  “Do you want me to drive?” his mother asked.

  Ty shook his head. He drove down the middle of the empty road, leaving the level area by Herman’s trees. The crackle of burning branches, the crash of logs, chased them down the curving gravel. It was quite a treacherous stretch of road with s-curves and hairpin turns down the mountain.

 

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