Uncertain Summer

  We headed to Marshall, which was only about a half an hour away. I’ve always loved going there, and around Christmastime, Gram and Gramps used to take me and Emmett to walk the twinkling Wonderland of Lights display. I sure missed Gram, and this made me think of Shawna’s family. “Any update on your grandma?”

  “She’s about the same, maybe even more out of it based on Mom’s latest report.”

  “Oh,” I said, hoping for better news. “Maybe we could buy her some cookies or something today.”

  Mama looked at me in the review mirror with pride as she responded, “That’s a great idea, Everdil.”

  Then I was thrown forward when she slammed on the brakes, the seatbelt digging into my stomach and shoulder.

  “You girls okay?” Mama asked before I could figure out what had happened.

  “Fine,” I answered. “Geez, you would’ve thought Bigfoot jumped in front of the car.”

  Shawna massaged her collarbone while Mama placed a hand over her heart. A deer stood in the middle of the road in broad daylight with its eyes so wide that it looked possessed or rabid. It was only a few feet away from being roadkill. It was large enough that our car probably would’ve been roadkill, too.

  Mama laid on the horn, but the deer didn’t budge. It gazed through us in the most haunted of ways until the sound of a shotgun rang out in the distance. Well, that explained things. Hunting season was over, but some folks around here believed they should be able to kill anything whenever they wanted, at least according to Papa’s grumblings.

  “Dang poacher,” Mama said under her breath as she drove off now that the deer had sprinted into the woods. “I want you girls to be extra careful when you play outside.”

  She made it sound like we were little kids, but at least she didn’t make plans to supervise us like she had done after a nearby hiker got accidentally shot by a poacher a few years back. I thought we’d never hear the end of that incident.

  We settled on going to the large superstore since it would have everything we needed. The aisles were bright and so was our conversation as the three of us poked through the clothing section, probably since we realized how lucky we’d been to avoid a major accident.

  15

  “This would look good on you,” Shawna said, holding up a dress from the junior’s section that was turquoise—my favorite color. She’d remembered.

  “You’re right, Shawna.” Mama had been trying to get me to wear dresses for a while, and I sometimes did, just on rare church occasions.

  The dress had sequins around the collar that made it look pretty but not over-the-top-girlie. I wondered what Tim would think about it. I shook my head and explained, “It isn’t practical.” I hoped Shawna would interpret “practical” as “this won’t work for Team Bigfoot.”

  Mama tossed the dress in the cart to “try on at least” as we helped find Shawna some clothes that would work for the team, not like we let Mama in on that fact.

  “Cute, you’ll be like twinsies again,” Mama said as Shawna picked out some camouflage shorts and a coordinating tan tank. It seemed like forever ago when we used to dress similarly. Shawna stopped for a moment like she was re-thinking this, but then she tossed the outfit into the cart anyway.

  It would take a whole lot more than an outfit for us to be twinsies. I exhaled. “Let’s try this on so we can look at other stuff.”

  In the fitting room, Shawna posed in front of the mirror like she was bound for a fashion shoot rather than traipsing around in the woods hunting a cryptid. And when I tried the dress on, well, there really was nothing practical about it.

  “You actually look pretty,” Shawna said. I know she likely meant it as a compliment, but it sure didn’t sound like one.

  “You do,” Mama agreed, which hurt my feelings just as much since she seemed oblivious to Shawna’s insult/compliment.

  “We’ve got other things we should be buying,” I said, ready to change out of the dress and set it back on the rack.

  Mama insisted that I get it, though. “You’d shock everyone with how great you look,” she said. I admit this got to me, as I wouldn’t mind shocking one person in particular.

  As if that wasn’t enough, Mama added, “Your dad just got paid, and the dress doesn’t cost much.”

  Without thinking that Shawna was standing right there, I blurted out, “But what about the bank calling?”

  “We’re getting it straightened out,” Mama said, setting the dress back in the cart, this time like it was for keeps. “That’s for us to worry about, not you.”

  I did worry though, even if I decided to get the dress anyway. One piece of clothing wasn’t a huge deal with everything else considered.

  Shawna put the clothes she wanted in the cart, and then we split from Mama while she picked out some groceries.

  “You should get some blue cheese and bologna for a practice run,” I told her.

  “That’s not a bad idea.” Mama took the cart with her, tucking the dress in the back like she wanted to keep me from changing my mind.

  “Things have been rough lately for your family, huh?” Shawna said as we made our way to the outdoor section.

  I shrugged. “It would be great if my parents were rich like yours or if we could hurry up and win this contest.”

  Shawna laughed, but it sounded forced. “Money won’t fix everything. It doesn’t buy time, and it won’t make you well.”

  That seemed like something Gramps would say. A million dollars couldn’t bring Gram back.

  We were passing by the home décor section when Shawna stopped and changed the subject. “You should consider redecorating your room.” She flipped through a poster display full of boy band pictures and some with wild designs.

  Posters weren’t my style, but I’d been thinking about painting over the busy floral wallpaper. Maybe the dress gave me some confidence and so did these conversations. The truth is I kind of wanted to reinvent myself too, only without all that makeup. “You’re right.” I grabbed a nearby abandoned cart and Shawna helped me select a drum of buttercream paint as well as a few painting supplies. The color looked soft and calm and yummy. Plus, it had a touch of gold to remind me of the chain around my neck and the sunshine outside.

  As we continued through the superstore, we passed a section of shotguns and BB guns and more serious weapons locked up. Shawna turned her attention to pocketknives on the shelf. Some of them were puny and would offer no defense against massive Bigfoot fangs, or boars.

  Shawna’s nowhere near as clumsy as I am, but she knocked several packages off of the shelf. When I bent down to help her pick them up, I couldn’t believe it when I saw her slip the smallest of knives into her pocket.

  A pocketknife is not the type of thing you need to “try on.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, wanting what I saw to be nothing more than a misunderstanding.

  “Shh,” she said, glancing around as she set the other knives back in place.

  This was no misunderstanding. “Put it back, or I’m telling.”

  “Don’t be such a little kid about this, Everdil.”

  “Your popular friends in Dallas might go around stealing stuff, but that’s not right.”

  “Look Everdil, they’re not going to let a kid buy a knife, and we’ll have more money to spend on other things this way.”

  “It’s wrong. A thief doesn’t belong on our team. I’m sure Emmett and Tim will agree with me.” And if they didn’t? Well, I’d venture out solo. Skewing the truth was one thing, but stealing was breaking one of the commandments. Shawna could do whatever she wanted, but I wasn’t going down with her.

  I was on the verge of tears as I walked off. I hate the fact that I sometimes cry when I get angry. I guess I expected Shawna to come running after me repenting of her ways.

  I even stopped and picked up a cheap compass and a flashlight with a carabiner to give her some extra time to change her mind. Nothing, which made me start to worry about the things in my room she might try
to pocket, like my necklace. I wasn’t going to take it off again with her around.

  I put the flashlight back and set out to find Mama, but I stopped when a man raised his voice near the gun counter. At first I thought it was because Shawna had gotten busted, but then someone responded, “I can’t sell you a gun, sir. There’s a protocol in Texas.”

  “Forget the protocol! I’m trying to protect people from a takeover!” I knew the voice—Swamp Sam.

  I rounded the corner and saw him standing by the case. He had a few new sores on his face, and his skin was peeling. He must’ve dropped more weight the way his hunting attire sagged.

  The guy behind the gun counter crossed his arms. “Sir, please calm down. If you refuse to fill out the background check, I can’t sell you a gun. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I have the right to bear arms! And I already own several guns, you idiot. I just need a new rifle.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  Swamp Sam pounded on the glass gun case. “You don’t understand! Bigfoot is building an army to destroy us, with the government’s help mind you, and I need to fire out warnings to keep that from happening!”

  The guy talked into a walkie-talkie and requested immediate back-up. Swamp Sam must’ve gotten the hint because he stepped away. “You’re making things worse by not selling me the gun,” he said before walking off. The guy let out a nervous chuckle and said something else into his walkie-talkie, but I couldn’t quite hear.

  As I set out to find Mama, I listened for sirens and watched for police officers rushing through the store to arrest Swamp Sam, or maybe even Shawna for shoplifting. Before I reached the grocery section, a hand reached for my shoulder, and I about yelped thinking it was a store employee sent to interrogate me.

  “I put the knife back,” Shawna said, holding onto a pair of binoculars. “Did you hear what just happened?”

  “That was Swamp Sam talking crazy,” I said.

  “At first I thought it was some kind of made-for-TV prank, but Swamp Sam was serious about the Bigfoot and government conspiracy stuff, wasn’t he?” she said. When I didn’t respond, she asked, “Hey, are we cool?”

  I eyed her pocket to see if it had a knife-shaped lump.

  “Seriously. I put it back.” Shawna patted her pocket for good measure.

  “I still plan on telling the boys, and I should tell my parents plus yours.”

  Shawna kicked at a scuff mark on the ground. “Like my parents would even care with everything they have going on, but do you have to tell the others? I didn’t actually steal anything.”

  She made a good point. “I guess.”

  We met up with Mama, and she asked if we’d heard that Swamp Sam was in the store causing trouble. Funny how quickly news can spread wherever you are, small town or a superstore.

  “He didn’t look so well, and he seems to be losing it,” I said.

  “How incredibly sad,” Mama said. “He’s an intelligent man, but Papa said he’s been refusing help. I should bring him some food,” she said, investigating the paint and the supplies in my cart before we headed to the checkout lanes. “What’s all this for?”

  “Shawna and I were thinking about redecorating my room—is that okay?”

  Mama hesitated for a moment. “I’ll miss those sweet flowers, but I guess it’s time for a fresh look, huh?”

  Shawna and I helped put Mama’s items, including the dress, on the belt at the checkout line. I flinched at how much everything cost, and when Mama swiped her credit card, the register printed out a small piece of paper.

  The cashier glanced at the paper with a look of concern and pity. “Seems like the payment didn’t go through. Could be a technical issue, like the satellite connection or something,” the cashier said in a much-too-cheerful manner. She swiped the card again, but we all knew it wasn’t some technical issue or some satellite in the atmosphere acting wonky. “Do you have another way of paying for this?” the cashier asked.

  Mama’s voice choked. “No, I’m sorry.”

  The cashier gave us another look of concern and pity until Shawna piped up, “Actually, we have cash. Can you add these other items to the total?” She handed her items over and then paid nearly two hundred dollars before Mama could refuse.

  “Wonderful!” the cashier said with a phony smile.

  As soon as we were out of earshot of the cashier, Mama thanked Shawna and told her she’d pay her back immediately.

  “My parents gave me the money since they didn’t want me to be a burden on your family while I’m staying with you guys,” Shawna said. “They’ll be upset if you don’t accept it. Please.”

  I’m not sure how much of this was truthful, but Mama thanked her several times, and I took her aside to say, “That was incredibly generous.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry I doubted you earlier, Shawna Minnoe.”

  16

  Like the gentleman he normally wasn’t, Emmett carried the bags inside once we got home. He even helped unpack and when he saw the neatly folded dress in a bag, he told Shawna, “That’s nice.”

  “It’s for your sister,” Shawna said, keeping it a secret that she’d bought all this stuff with her very own money. I promised to keep her near-shoplifting secret in return.

  I thought Emmett was about to say something mean, but all he said was, “Hmmm.”

  “Care to help me make some apple rhubarb popovers?” Mama asked Emmett, probably to keep the two of us from getting into a fight. She might’ve just been eager to whip up something tasty with her sous chef on her day off.

  “Considering I’m grounded, do I have much of a choice?” Emmett asked.

  Mama laughed. “Well, you can help the girls redecorate Everdil’s room instead. Your choice.”

  Emmett chose the popovers, but he carried the paint to the room for us. He wasn’t merely trying to impress Shawna—he had news.

  He partially closed the door. “So I found out Swamp Sam’s real name is Samuel Blinn. There’s not much info on him, but he’s lived in East Texas all his life, and he graduated from Jefferson High School. The only real thing of interest is that he had an arrest record from several years ago for misconduct with a weapon, but I couldn’t find any details.”

  Misconduct with a weapon? Made sense as to why he’d refuse the background check, and it wasn’t surprising for someone who shot two boys with rock salt (never mind the fact they were trespassing). We told him about what happened at the store.

  “I doubt he’ll be getting a new gun any time soon,” Emmett said and gave us more info. “Tim looked into the hunter. I guess he’s some big shot politician from Dallas named Dierk Robinson.”

  “It makes sense why he looks familiar now. I’ve seen him on the news,” Shawna said, stopping to check out some things on her phone.

  While she researched, Emmett helped me move my furniture out of the way.

  After a few minutes, Shawna showed us a mug shot that looked exactly like the man we’d seen at the store, only more haggard. “This guy has been in trouble with the law, too. I guess he voted for stricter gun control laws but then got busted for shooting a rhino on an animal preserve. Not only that, but it was with some high-powered illegal rifle.”

  “Why would anyone shoot a rhino?” I asked, remembering the black rhinoceros we’d seen at the Houston zoo when we went there on a family trip. Tim had gone with us, listing facts about each animal like how the rhinoceros was endangered. The zoo trip had been ages ago, but I clearly remembered the rhino’s size and the majestic way it roamed around. I also remembered a beautiful female gorilla nursing a newborn baby, though the boys seemed less impressed because it didn’t pee about eight gallons like the rhino did.

  Emmett shrugged again. “Why would someone want to shoot Bigfoot? That’s my guess why he’s here.”

  Shawna read more from the article. “Anyway, his lawyer got him off the hook somehow by claiming that Dierk shot the rhino out of self-defense. He supposedly l
ost his finger in that incident. You think the rhino nipped it off?”

  “I doubt the rhino mistook his finger for a carrot,” Emmett said.

  Well, now Dierk’s safari outfit made more sense. It sickened me to think of him hunting endangered creatures. For what reason? The thrill of the kill? I closed my eyes to say a prayer for Papa’s safety, especially if Dierk had some illegal weapons on him now. My prayer was interrupted by the sound of a loud rip.

  Shawna held a huge chunk of wallpaper in her hand. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

  Now that my few pieces of furniture were out of the way, Emmett said he’d check back in later. I’d planned on painting over the wallpaper, but Shawna continued ripping off sections. I could see why. There was something so satisfying about tearing chunks of it off the wall.

  Using her nails to dig at a large piece, Shawna tugged. “This is for cruel people like Dierk,” she said. Rip!

  I followed Shawna’s lead, using the semi-sharp edge of a pair of scissors to remove the wallpaper behind my desk. “And for Swamp Sam losing his mind!” Rip!

  “For my grandmother having a stroke.” Rip!

  “For Gram dying.” Rip!

  “For my parents who are always too busy.” Rip!

  “For my parents and their money worries.” Rip!

  “For the kids at school who are mean to me.” Rip!

  I stopped demolishing the wallpaper for a moment, stunned to hear Shawna’s confession. “Aren’t you Miss Popular now?”

  Shawna gave the wallpaper a rest. “Sure, I got invited to one sleepover, but I’m hardly Miss Popular. Not like you’d know, but it’s hard to be the new kid at a big school. I’m an outsider there. At home with my dad, too.”

  “But you’ve always had me …”

  “The longer I went without talking to you, the more I didn’t think I could. Your life has been moving on too, Everdil. I see what’s going on between you and Tim.”