by Cheree Alsop
“Coach Farston put me in as starting quarterback,” he said suddenly.
I looked at him in surprise. “That was quick.”
He shrugged. “I was a backup before . . .” He frowned and glared hard at the sunset. “Before Kyle raced the train and got himself killed.” He rolled his shoulders as if adjusting the weight of the memory. “Coach said I deserved a shot. I think he was happy to replace Beau. The guy’s a tool.”
I nodded. I had seen the jock throw a football into the air and then attempt to catch it with his mouth. It was no wonder he was missing a few teeth.
“How are you liking it?”
He nodded toward the sunset. “I’m late because Coach made me run laps for throwing too many ducks.”
I thought of the coach forcing the leader of the Bullet gang to run laps. The idea was absurd, but Magnum actually seemed pleased. He looked at me and I could tell there was something else he wanted to say.
“Some of the other Bullets decided to join the team with me.”
“That’s great,” I replied, puzzled by his expression.
He shook his head. “Except for Colt, Thompson, Uzi, and Snipe. They’re saying we’ve lost the focus of the Bullets and they’re planning to branch off and form their own gang.”
His concern made sense. If the old members of his gang were causing trouble, he would probably run into them riding with me. Confronting his friends could make for a pretty awkward situation. “If we come against them, I’m expecting you to lie low. We don’t need them figuring out your identity.”
He gave me a grateful smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
I eased down to the grass. The Ashbys’ lawn was thick and in need of mowing, as Uncle Rick had reminded Cole many times. I didn’t mind; it was quite comfortable to sit on. The sun had set and only hints of orange lingered on the horizon. Someone had flipped on the back-porch light, illuminating a tiny circle around the door. A shiver crept across my skin at the touch of the cooling grass on my back. I knew I should go inside, but the thought of lying on the cot for hours wasn’t a pleasant one.
Magnum studied me from the chair swing. “You gonna stay out here all night?”
I shrugged and laid my head back on the grass to look at the first gleam of stars. “It’s tempting.”
The back door opened and I turned to see everyone come out. Cassidy and Mom were carrying cookie trays while Cole dropped a sack of chopped carrots on the steps. Jaren brought a bowl filled with potatoes cut into wedges.
“What’s this?” I asked in surprise.
Uncle Rick came out last with a lighter in one hand and a bottle of lighter fluid in the other.
“We figured it’d be easier to bring dinner to you than vice versa,” he answered. He gave me a stern look with a hint of humor dancing in his eyes. “But don’t get used to it.”
I pushed up gingerly and leaned against the chair swing. “Oh, I won’t,” I told him. “I’m still trying to decide whether this is real or I’m delirious.”
“You should probably take your pain meds then,” he said.
“You haven’t taken your medicine?” Mom asked, appalled.
Uncle Rick read the apprehensive look on my face and chuckled. “If he wants to tough it out, let him. Pain’s good for a growing boy.”
Mom shook her head. “If you don’t need to be hurtin’, why suffer?”
I stared at her. She gave me an uncomfortable look. “What?”
“You’re starting to sound like a farmer,” I told her.
Everyone laughed. Mom blushed and smiled at herself. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Definitely,” Cassidy said, which brought more laughter from the group.
Aunt Lauren set one of the cookie sheets on the ground, then eased down next to me. Her hand rested on her stomach and she gave me a warm smile. “I’m not showing much yet, but it’s amazing how much this little guy or girl is already kicking!”
“She likes tinfoil dinners,” Cassidy said.
“It’s not a she, it’s a he,” Cole argued.
“We don’t know yet,” Jaren put in calmly, “So just be prepared for either.”
“What if it’s twins?” their mom asked.
All three kids stared at her with shocked expressions. She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’d be showing a lot more by now. I’m pretty sure we’re just having one.”
“Might be good to check,” Uncle Rick said.
Aunt Lauren shook her head. “I want to be surprised about our baby’s gender. Our midwife will let us know if she thinks we should get an ultrasound before the delivery.”
Uncle Rick shook his head, but it was obvious this was a repeat of an old argument. He sighed and began pouring lighter fluid over the logs in the fire pit near the corner of the lawn.
“Can I light it? Can I light it?” Cole asked, jumping up and down.
Uncle Rick gave him a calculating look. “Normally I’d say no, but I’m worried you’ll get your experience with fire elsewhere other than burning ditches.”
“So I can!” Cole exclaimed.
His father grudgingly gave him the lighter. “Take it easy and light the fire in several places. We’ll let it burn down before we start cooking.”
“What are we cooking?” Magnum asked interestedly.
He sat on the grass next to Cassidy and watched her flatten a piece of tinfoil on one of the cookie sheets.
“Tinfoil dinners,” she told him.
“Who wants to eat tinfoil?” he asked.
Cole laughed so hard, he fell over backwards.
Jaren shook his head and said, “We don’t eat tinfoil. We use it to cook the food in.”
Magnum gave a sheepish smile. “I knew that.”
“We used to do these when we were kids,” Mom said with a fond smile. I watched her load rolled balls of raw hamburger, some of the potatoes, a handful of carrots, and chopped onions onto a sheet of tinfoil. Then she sprinkled salt, pepper, and a spice mix on top. She folded everything into a square, then wrapped another sheet of tinfoil on the outside.
“Don’t forget to write your name on it, Aunt Sarah,” Cole said, helpfully supplying a marker. “I don’t wanna get stuck with your crappy one.”
“Cole!” Aunt Lauren chided.
“Well, mine’s gonna be the best,” he stated smugly.
Mom exchanged a look with Sarah. “That sounds a lot like us when we were his age.”
“Don’t remind me,” Aunt Lauren said with a laugh.
Mom scooted her now-empty cookie sheet toward me. “Your turn.”
Cassidy made sure I could reach everything. “I can’t believe you haven’t done this before,” she said.
“We didn’t exactly have a fire pit in our apartment,” I replied.
Magnum grinned. “I guess I don’t have an excuse. I’ll have to go home and show Jess, Derek, and Tommy how to make these.”
“I could help,” Cassidy said.
Magnum stared at her, then glanced at me. I pretended to be busy piling potatoes and carrots on top of the hamburger on my tinfoil.
Silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable moments until Mom thought of something to say. “The ladies at the store showed me a report on the Black Rider. Apparently even though the robbers took out the security cameras before they hit the gas station, the store owner had installed a hidden camera in case they showed up.”
I glanced at her as Cassidy helped me carefully crease the edges of my tinfoil square so that nothing would fall out. “What did the report say?” It was the first time Mom had voluntarily brought up the Black Rider. I figured I could count that as progress.
She pushed her hair out of her face with her arm as she wiped her hands clean on a dish towel. “Apparently it was quite the fight. The report from the Bulletin said that an imposter showed up dressed like the Black Rider and they beat him up pretty good before the real one appeared.”
Everyone looked at Magnum; his black eye made it painfully obvious who the second Rider had been. He shrugged sheepish
ly. “I had to try.”
Uncle Rick nodded. “I’m happy to know Kelson has somebody in his corner when it comes to taking on guys like this. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Magnum dropped his eyes and nodded. A hint of pride showed in his expression as Cassidy wrote his name on his tinfoil dinner. He took it to the fire and dropped it by the others.
Mom nodded. “It’s brave of you to do that. I’m glad you guys have each other.”
Magnum cleared his throat. “This is getting a little too mushy. You guys have any marshmallows?”
Cassidy jumped up and ran for the house. Cole raced right behind her. We could hear the ensuing tussle in the kitchen.
“Just what that boy needs—more sugar,” Uncle Rick remarked.
“We’ll just make him run laps around the house before bed,” Aunt Lauren answered. They both chuckled at the thought even though I knew they would never do it. Aunt Lauren leaned against her husband and slipped her hand through his. He positioned himself so he could support her and traced his fingers along her arm. It wasn’t often that I saw them so affectionate with each other. The sight made me miss Madelyn all the more.
Cassidy ran back out with a bag of marshmallows. Cole followed slowly behind, obviously upset that a girl had beat him.
She tossed the bag at Magnum. He caught it and followed her to the fire where they proceeded to slide them on roasting sticks. Cole grabbed a handful from the bag and stuck as many marshmallows as he could fit onto one stick before holding it over the fire.
“This is nice,” Aunt Lauren said with a contented sigh.
Uncle Rick nodded. “It’s been way too long since we ate outside.”
“Thank you for doing this,” I said, touched by all the effort they put into it so I could stay outside. A cool evening breeze ran across my skin and I shivered.
Mom dropped a long-sleeved shirt on my lap and said, “Last thing you need is to catch a cold,” she said with a worried smile. I hadn’t even heard her leave to get it.
I pulled the shirt over my head, and then she helped me work my arms through the sleeves. It was embarrassing to have my mother dress me, but the warmth of the shirt was greatly welcome. “I think it’ll take more than a cold to kill me,” I said.
“That’s for sure,” Cole replied, hurrying back over with a dozen smoldering marshmallows on his stick. “If jumping through a window, getting shot, flying off a roof, or getting stuck with a knife didn’t do it, a cold won’t.”
“Cole,” Aunt Lauren said with a shake of her head.
Cole shrugged and shoved a marshmallow in his mouth. “What?” he asked around the sticky mouthful. “It’s the truth.”
“Just the same,” Mom replied calmly, “I’d rather not take the risk.”
“I think they’re done,” Jaren called from beside the fire after a few more minutes had passed. He pulled one tinfoil dinner onto the grass with a pair of barbecue tongs and opened it carefully to reveal the steaming interior. The wonderful scent of cooked meat, potatoes, onions, and carrots filled the air.
“I’m getting mine!” Cole yelled. He scrambled to his feet and tossed his full marshmallow stick to the grass, already forgotten.
“I’ll get yours,” Uncle Rick said to his wife. He carried one of the cookie trays to the fire and loaded a few of the tinfoil packages onto it. He set his and Aunt Lauren’s on one tray, then handed me the other one.
Mom sat next to me and proceeded to open hers with a fork so she didn’t get burned. I followed her example and did the same. My mouth was watering from the aromas by the time I had the folds undone. I breathed deeply and smiled.
“Bon appetit,” Aunt Lauren said. “I think this is exactly what the baby ordered for dinner.”
“So it’s a boy,” Cole said.
“Girls like tinfoil dinners too,” Cassidy pointed out.
“Yeah, but meat and potatoes are a man’s food,” Cole said.
Magnum snorted. “What are the women supposed to eat?”
Cole grinned around his fork. “Donuts.”
“That’s all?” the Bullet leader asked, humor shining in his eyes.
Cole nodded. “Then they’ll be slow and fat and can stop chasing me at school.”
“Do they catch you?” Magnum asked curiously.
The blush that stole across the young boy’s cheeks was enough of an answer to send everyone laughing.
“And here I thought you were fast,” Jaren said.
“I am fast,” Cole replied indignantly. “They’re just faster.”
Magnum laughed so hard that he choked on a piece of potato; Cassidy patted his back until he stopped coughing. I doubted it helped, but I noticed he didn’t stop her. I glanced at Uncle Rick to see if he was aware of what was going on. The way he pointedly avoided looking at the pair said enough. I made a mental note to talk to Magnum about that later.
“This is amazing,” I said. I ate quickly, astonished at my appetite. Jake settled at my feet and caught the pieces of hamburger I tossed to him. For some reason, it meant a lot to me that the dog preferred my company. I saw Uncle Rick noting the same thing; he gave me an approving nod.
Aunt Lauren slid her dinner to me when I was done. “You need to keep up your strength to heal,” she said. She rubbed her stomach. “Besides, my eyes are always bigger than my stomach. I think the baby’s taking up most of the room.”
I looked at Uncle Rick. He waved his fork at me. “You’d better eat it or I’m going to, and I don’t need more food.” He patted his stomach meaningfully.
I grinned and finished Aunt Lauren’s tinfoil dinner. Exhaustion filled my limbs when I was done. I settled back on the grass and listened to the others talking quietly around the fire. Mom brought out blankets to chase away the night chill. I rested under a big white-and-red patchwork quilt that looked warmer than all the rest. I knew it wasn’t an accident; warmth filled me at my mom’s kindness.
I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep, but the stars were shining bright overhead when Mom touched my shoulder. “Time to go inside,” she said softly.
A glance showed that Magnum had already gone and Cassidy and the boys were in the house. Uncle Rick bent and took my arm, pulling me carefully to my feet. He helped me inside even though I didn’t ask for assistance. I think he knew how much I hated asking; the farmer had my same sense of pride, whether it was misplaced or not.
I lay back on the cot and smiled when Mom settled the blanket over me. “I’m a little old to be tucked in,” I said.
She shook her head. “I’m not too old to be your mother, so you’re going to have to put up with it once in a while.”
I laughed, then held my side until the throbbing stopped. Mom picked up one of the pain pills from the end table and handed it to me with a cup of water. “Take it, for me,” she said. “I hate to see you hurting.”
I gave in and put the pill in my mouth. She watched as I took several swallows from the cup, and then she set it back on the end table.
“Have a good night,” she said, kissing me on the forehead.
“You too,” I replied.
I waited until she was gone and the lights were out before I slipped the pill from under my tongue and tossed it in the fireplace.
MY CELL PHONE BEEPED urgently from the end table. I reached for it with a lazy groan. Last night had worn me out more than I thought, and I spent the morning sleeping in until ten o’clock, eating a plate of pancakes, then sleeping again through lunchtime. It was the laziest I ever remembered being, but the rest felt good.
Magnum’s name showed on the screen. I pushed the answer button. “Hello?” I said groggily.
“Kelson, you’ve gotta get over here,” Magnum said in a hushed voice filled with panic.
I sat up quickly, then winced at the protest in my side. “What’s going on?” I demanded.
“The Brown Hawk gang stormed the pep rally at school. They’re looking for me,” Magnum said in a quick whisper.
I pushed the speaker phone
button and set the cell phone on the end table while I pulled on my freshly cleaned riding pants as quickly as possible. “Where are you?” I asked.
“The entire student body is in the gymnasium. They have the doors barricaded and they said they’ll shoot anyone who pulls out a cell phone. They have Principal Dawson and the teachers in the middle of the floor at gunpoint.”
“Hang up so you don’t get shot. I’ll call the sheriff.”
“Hurry,” Magnum said. “They’re acting crazy and saying they’ll hurt someone if the Black Rider doesn’t show himself.”
I grabbed my vest and jacket, wincing as I pulled them on. I rushed to the mudroom and picked up my shoes without slowing. I hurried outside as fast as the pain in my angry side would let me. I hadn’t seen the motorcycle since I wrecked it. I could only hope it was in working condition.
I found it hidden behind the barn where hay had been stacked to form a convenient hiding place. The left side was scratched, but other than that, it appeared to be fine. I hopped on one foot and pulled on a shoe, ignoring the way my side protested at the process. I slipped on the other one, then stomped it on the ground to settle my foot inside. The force caused a pain so sharp that I had to lean against the barn to catch my breath.
“Come on,” I growled to myself. “They’re in trouble.”
I pulled out my phone and called Jagger, grateful he at least had a landline. He was surprised to hear from me, but listened carefully and said he would be ready when I reached the junkyard.
I jumped on the motorcycle, glad it started right up. I fastened my helmet, heedless of the pain when I raised my arms. I was pretty sure I would be feeling a lot worse by the time the day was over.
Jagger was as good as his word. He met me in front of the shack and handed over a backpack of supplies.
“Take care a yurself,” he said, concern bright in his eyes. “I phoned the sheriff. He said they’d be there when ya arrived.”
“Thanks, Jagger. It’s going to be all right.”
He nodded, but it was obvious by his expression that he was unconvinced. “Ya got yur vest?”
“Always,” I said, forcing a smile.
He nodded and I drove out of the junkyard.