by Geof Johnson
Zach picked it up from another bench and handed it to him. “I found something that I think is a schematic. It looked like the little drawing you made for me, so I bookmarked it. There are some more in there like it”
Grandpa flipped it open and let out a low, rumbling sound. “Yeah, this is it, but man, this writing is tiny. When you get a chance, I want you to make a photocopy of all of them and enlarge them. Ask your mom if she’ll run you to the print shop.”
“I can take a picture of them with my phone and print them out upstairs.”
* * *
Liz stood with Tina and waved at the white van as it backed out of the driveway. It had a sign painted on the side: Baron’s Antiques.
“I think we underpriced that last one,” Tina said. “That man obviously thinks he can make some money on the washstand or he wouldn’t a’ bought it.”
“I don’t care,” Liz said. “I’m ready to be done with this. I was happy to see him leave.” She put one arm around Tina’s shoulders and squeezed her tightly. “It was a good day, though, thanks to you. A great day, actually. I never expected to make so much money.”
“But we didn’t sell everything. You still have three pieces left. I may have overpriced those. Sorry ’bout that.”
“I don’t care. I made more than enough.” She bit her lip for a moment, then said, “You put in so much work, Tina. I’d like to pay you something for your time.”
“Not on your life. I’m not lettin’ you pay me for helpin’ you.”
“You’ve worked almost three full afternoons now, just for this, and I think you deserve some money.”
“No.”
“Why not? I know it would come in handy right now for you and—”
“No!” Liz flinched at Tina’s adamant refusal. Tina looked stubbornly at Liz and said, “I am not taking money from you. You’re my friend, so don’t even think about it.”
“Are you sure? I feel like I should do something for you.” She put her thumbnail between her teeth while she tried to think of what she could offer that Tina would accept. “Would you like one of the antiques we didn’t sell? You can have one, if you want.”
Tina draped her hand over her mouth and Liz thought she saw a little smile behind her fingers. “Well, now that you mention it, I kinda like that little walnut curio cabinet.”
“Really? You can have that. You can have more if you want.”
“No, just the cabinet. I’ve been wantin’ something like that for a while, but couldn’t afford anything decent.”
“What are you going to put in it? Do you have any collectibles?”
“I’ve got my grandmother’s ceramic figurines. Most of them are from Europe, and they’re pretty nice.”
“Aren’t you worried about your kids breaking them?”
“That’s why they’re in a box in the attic. The kids don’t even know I have them.”
“But if you put them out now, don’t you think they’ll get broken?”
“Shelby won’t mess with ’em, and Jason and Justin seem to have calmed down a little over the last few months. I think pretty soon I can trust them enough to put the figurines out.”
“Okay. We need to get the cabinet to your house. It’s probably too big to fit in either of our cars, so I’ll ask my father if I can borrow his truck.”
* * *
Zach slouched in his chair at dinner, and his mother didn’t like it. “Sit up, please.”
“I’m tired.”
“We had a long day in the lab,” Grandpa said.
“Sit up anyway,” she said. “I expect good manners at the table.” Then she gave him a soft smile. “I know you’re tired. You’ve been working hard. It’s a good thing we have fall break this coming week.”
Zach grunted and frowned. “But I’ve got to work. We have jobs every day.”
“But you’ll be making money, so that’s good. Speaking of which, I made over eight thousand dollars this afternoon selling the furniture that was in the garage.”
Grandpa dropped his fork on his plate and gaped at her. “Eight thousand? I didn’t think you’d make that much.”
“It was all because of Tina. She knew how to get the right kind of customers here, and she knew what to charge for the antiques. We had two people who ended up having a bidding war for the dining room set. Tina insisted that the pieces had to stay together, and once you added up the table, chairs, buffet, and china cabinet, it was a lot just to start with.”
“That was good set of furniture,” Grandpa said, “All matching cherry, if I remember correctly. Those were Uncle Nicholas’s, and I think he got those when he bought the house, back before his fiancé died.”
“I liked that set,” she said, “but I didn’t need it because I already had one that I prefer. So it made sense to sell it, and once those two people got through fighting for it, they’d jacked the price up to three thousand, nine hundred dollars.”
“Lordamighty, I believe it. I’ve been in antique shops before, and I know that stuff can be expensive.”
“So, do I have enough money now to replace the windows in this house?”
“You have more than enough. You’ve almost got enough to get it painted, too.”
“Really? Oh, that would be fantastic. I’d love to have all of that done before winter gets here.” She looked at Zach. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Who’s going to do the work?” He glanced at Grandpa.
Zach’s mother said, “Dad, you can do the windows, can’t you?”
“I’ll need to hire some help. I can’t do it by myself.”
Zach’s brow fell. “What about the lab?”
His mother ignored him, still facing Grandpa. “Do you know somebody?”
“I can round up two or three guys, I’m sure. There are always a few carpenters hanging around Bennie’s looking for work.”
Zach sat up straight in his chair. “What about the—”
“I’ll pay them,” his mother said. “Do I need to pay you, too? You’ll have to pass up any of your own jobs, won’t you?”
“I’ll just put those off for two or three days. We can get the windows installed by then. And no, you don’t have to pay me, Liz.”
“I’m so excited.” She smiled gleefully. “When can you start?”
“Not this week. You’ll have to order the windows, first, and they’ll take several days to get here. We’ll install them on the following week, which is better because you’ll be back in school, and we’ll be making a big racket while we work.”
“But….” Zach slouched again, defeated. “What about the lab?”
“I’ll get to that, too. I told you I would.”
“But how can you, if you’re working on the windows?” He knew he sounded petulant but he couldn’t help it.
“Calm down, son. You still have to order replacement tubes, and before you do that you have to earn some money to pay for ’em. That’s the deal, remember? I’m sure the suppliers are going to want us to use a credit card, and I’m not chargin’ that stuff on mine until you have the cash in your hand.”
Zach crossed his arms and lowered his chin, and he had to squeeze his mouth tightly to keep his lower lip from poking out. “But you said you’d do it. You’d fix the lab.”
Grandpa spoke slowly as if carefully judging his words. “I know it’s important. We’ll do it as fast as we can, but it’s going to take as long as it takes.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Understand?”
Zach only grunted.
Zach’s mother looked at Zach curiously. “Why is that old lab so important to you? Does it have to be fixed in a hurry? Is there something I should know about?”
Zach shook his head and his mouth pulled into a severe frown. “It’s just important. That’s all. We wanna do it. Me and my friends. I mean, my friends and I.”
She seemed like she was going to press him further, but instead she turned back to Grandpa and began babbling about getting new windows and having the house painted.
Zach
barely listened. He sulked with his arms still crossed over his chest, and stared at his plate of half-eaten food — lasagna from a frozen dinner his mother had heated up, and some salad. If we don’t hurry up and get that lab fixed, Bo is going to be stranded here forever. My friends and I will grow old, and Bo will be all alone in the forest.
Chapter 35
The next week was fall break, but it was anything but a vacation for Zach. He and his friends had jobs raking leaves every day, sometimes more — one in the morning and another after lunch. Their last was Saturday, early, and it was hard. By then they were tired, sore, and sick of each other, and when they split up and went home for lunch, the unspoken understanding was that they’d had enough together-time.
But by three o’clock, Jason called Zach to see if he wanted to make a quick trip to the woods to check on Bo. “Not for hanging out,” he said. “Just to make sure he’s okay.”
They met the white giant by the creek. “What do you want me to teach you today?” he asked. “I still haven’t shown you how to identify forest plants.”
“We just want to talk a little bit,” Jason said. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“We kinda missed you,” Shelby said.
They sat on the wooden bridge and let their feet dangle off the edge, Bo’s hanging twice as far as theirs. The water seemed to be running faster that day, and a few maple leaves, yellow and red, raced along with the current like tiny boats.
The lazy days of summer were gone, and Zach missed them. Fall was streaking by like those yellow and red leaves, the days becoming a blur of school and studying and raking and reading the log book.
Zach let the others do most of the talking. Jason and Justin filled Bo in on their progress with the lab, and Bo related the details of his week — another trip through the forest to visit one of his trading partners.
“Bo, I hope you don’t have to do that much longer,” Shelby said. “I hope we can send you home, soon.”
“I am not depending on it,” he said in his deep voice. “I still must put in stores for the winter.”
Their group got quiet for a moment, everyone watching the water and the floating leaves, until Jason patted Bo on the shoulder and said, “Been working on your redneck talk?”
“Ain’t hardly had no ’casion to.”
Laughter erupted all around, and Justin said, “That was a good one. Where’d you learn that?”
“From the mountain witch. I have come to realize that she speaks in such a manner.”
“You mean she talks like a redneck,” Zach said.
“I admit,” Bo said, “she speaks in strongly accented slang, but that does not mean she is ignorant or stupid. Quite the contrary. I have learned much from her over the last few years, things that I would share with my people, if and when I ever return.”
“I know you’re tired of us asking you this,” Justin said, “but how much longer do you think you have?”
“Before it is too late to join with my mate?” Bo looked at his forearm and turned his gaze back to the water. “I still cannot say exactly. Sometime during the winter, I think.”
“The early part or the middle or what? Winter is three months long.”
“I believe it will happen during the first snows.”
Zach glanced at his friends. He knew they were thinking the same thing: That doesn’t give us much time.
* * *
The next day was Zach’s birthday. They decided to have the party earlier than the one on the Fourth of July, and Zach wasn’t happy about that. It meant they couldn’t work on the lab equipment, but his mother insisted they do it that way. “Tomorrow’s Monday,” she said, “and we have school. If we’re going to have a cookout and a party, we need to have plenty of time, and I don’t want us staying up late.”
So they started at noon. Tina came over with her kids, and Grandpa brought Beepee and fired up the grill. Zach quickly got over his grumpiness. They set up the badminton net and the horseshoe pit in the backyard again, and the weather was pleasant enough to go without a jacket.
Zach rushed through lunch, a hamburger and some potato chips, because he had his eye on the colorfully wrapped presents lying on the folding table by the ice chest. He knew what one of them was by the shape — long and slender — and he couldn’t wait to unwrap it and try it out.
“Hurry up.” He nudged Justin, who was sitting next to him on the terrace, eating cake.
“But this is good.” Yellow crumbs dribbled from the corner of Justin’s mouth and tumbled down his chest. More were in his lap.
“You already had a piece. You can have some more, later.”
“Fine.” Justin pushed his paper plate back. “I’m done.”
“That means it’s time for presents.” Zach stood and slapped his hands together.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait?” his mother said, sitting on the other side of the wrought iron table. “You haven’t really played that much badminton or—”
“No!”
“Okay, gosh. Excuse me for suggesting otherwise.” She got up and went to the folding table, and everyone followed.
Tina picked up an oblong gift wrapped in blue paper and handed it to Zach. “You already know what you’re getting’ from your mom, so this is somethin’ that goes with it. It’s from all of us in my family.”
“We picked it out,” Shelby said. “Me and Jason and Justin.”
Zach ripped the paper from it to reveal a quiver, made of dark gray nylon. “Cool,” he said, and he meant it.
Jason reached out and tapped it with one hand. “The bottom’s reinforced so the arrows won’t poke through, but it’s still really light. We thought you’d like the way it looks.”
“Yeah.” Zach hefted it a couple of times. “And it is really light.”
Shelby pointed to a clasp on the top. “It’s got a strap so you can wear it across your back, but it’s also got this little thingamabob so you can hook it to your belt. It’s also got a side pocket where you can put other stuff, like your phone or whatever.”
“I like it a lot. Thanks.”
Grandpa handed him a gift, another long one. “Here’s part of mine.”
Zach pulled the paper off. Inside were a dozen arrows, black with yellow fletching. He rubbed a finger over one of the feather-like combs and watched it snap back into shape. “These look nice, Grandpa.”
“They’re fiberglass, with target tips. I hope that’s okay. You can spend a fortune on some fancier ones, but the guy at the sporting goods store said these were pretty good for the money.”
“They seem like it.” Zach slipped one out of the package and sighted down its length. “It’s perfect. Straight as an arrow.” He grinned and put it back with the others, and his mother handed him the last present, the biggest one.
“I know this isn’t a surprise,” she said, “but I got you exactly what you said you wanted.”
Zach didn’t wait. He snatched the wrapping paper off all at once.
It was a bow, glossy black with blue trim and made of fiberglass like the arrows.
“Oh…wow,” Shelby said slowly, perfectly echoing Zach’s thoughts.
This is awesome. Zach grasped the handle and held it with his arm extended. It felt good. Really good. “I think it’s the right length.” He looked at his friends and waggled his eyebrows. “Not too different.”
“Different from what?” his mother said.
“From…what I expected.”
“You need help stringing it?” Grandpa said.
“I think I can do it.” Zach set one end on the ground, wrapped his legs around it tightly, and bent the top down while he pulled the bow string up and looped it on the notch at the tip.
“Where did you learn to do that?” his mother said.
“Videos on the Internet.” It was a lie, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. An alien showed me how.
“Check the draw,” Justin said eagerly.
Tina wrinkled her forehead. “What’s th
at?”
“It’s the tension of the bow string, how hard it is to pull it back,” Jason said. “It’s measured in pounds.”
“How do you know that stuff?” Tina asked, but no one answered.
Zach extended the bow again and pulled back on the string. “It’s not too hard. We’ll be able to handle it.”
Shelby pointed at it and said, “That’s a recurve bow so it’s supposed to be easier to draw but still have plenty of power.”
“You learned all this stuff from videos?” Tina said.
Zach didn’t respond because he didn’t want to lie again, so he waited to see what his friends would say. The twins only shrugged, and Shelby said, “We used to watch a lot of videos when we first met Zach.”
This was true. Zach noticed that Shelby didn’t directly answer the question, but Tina seemed to accept what she heard.
“Let’s shoot it!” Jason said.
“Hold on a sec.” Grandpa started walking toward the gate in the side yard. “I gotta get the rest of my present to Zach. Jason, Justin, can you give me a hand?” The twins went with him and they vanished around the corner, then reappeared moments later, Jason and Justin each lugging a rectangular bale of hay, and Grandpa carrying a wide, flat cardboard box. “I got you some targets, Zach.”
“You thought of everything, Grandpa.” Zach waited while they carried their loads to the back of the yard. The twins stacked the hay bales and Grandpa attached a target to them. Beepee bounced around him and barked as if she knew what was coming.
Zach’s mother frowned and creased her brow. “Could you not put it there? I’m worried about the arrows going over the fence.”
“They won’t,” Zach said.
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
She turned to Tina, who stood next to her.
“Don’t look at me,” Tina said. “I wouldn’t trust ’em with it.”
“Maybe you should,” Jason said.
“I’ve had years of experience and countless trips to the emergency room to make me a little bit leery.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Ross.” Zach started to say we know what we’re doing, but settled for, “We’ll be fine.”