Blood Red Road (2 page)

I don’t unnerstand, he says. I see the rain comin.… I read it in the stars but … it don’t come. Why don’t it come?

It’s okay, Pa, says Emmi. I’ll help you. I’ll put ’em where you want. She scrabbles about on her knees, collectin all the sticks. She looks at him with a anxious smile.

Lugh didn’t mean it Pa, she says. I know he didn’t.

I go right on past ’em.

I know where Lugh’s headed.

I find him at Ma’s rock garden.

He sits on the ground, in the middle of the swirlin patterns, the squares an circles an little paths made from all different stones, each their own shade an size. Every last tiny pebble
set out by Ma with her own hands. She wouldn’t allow that anybody should help her.

She carefully laid the last stone in place. Sat back on her heels an smiled at me, rubbin at her big babby-swolled belly. Her long golden hair in a braid over one shoulder
.

There! You see, Saba? There can be beauty anywhere. Even here. An if it ain’t there, you can make it yerself
.

The day after that, she birthed Emmi. A month too early. Ma bled fer two days, then she died. We built her funeral pyre high an sent her spirit back to the stars. Once we’d scattered her ash to the winds, all we was left with was Em.

A ugly little red scrap with a heartbeat like a whisper. More like a newborn mouse than a person. By rights, she shouldn’t of lasted longer’n a day or two. But somehow she hung on an she’s still here. Small fer her age though, an scrawny.

Fer a long time, I couldn’t stand even lookin at her. When Lugh says I shouldn’t be so hard on her, I says that if it warn’t fer Emmi, Ma ’ud still be alive. He ain’t got no answer to that cuz he knows it’s true, but he always shakes his head an says somethin like, It’s time you got over it, Saba, an that kinda thing.

I put up with Emmi these days, but that’s about as far as it goes.

Now I set myself down on the hard-packed earth so’s my back leans against Lugh’s. I like it when we sit like this. I can feel his voice rumble inside my body when he talks. It must of
bin like this when the two of us was inside Ma’s belly together. Esseptin that neether of us could talk then, of course.

We sit there fer a bit, silent. Then, We should of left here a long time ago, he says. There’s gotta be better places’n this. Pa should of took us away.

You ain’t really leavin, I says.

Ain’t I? There ain’t no reason to stay. I cain’t jest sit around waitin to die.

Where would you go?

It don’t matter. Anywhere, so long as it ain’t Silverlake.

But you cain’t. It’s too dangerous.

We only got Pa’s word fer that. You do know that you an me ain’t ever bin more’n one day’s walk in any direction our whole lives. We never see nobody essept ourselves.

That ain’t true, I says. What about that crazy medicine woman on her camel last year? An … we see Potbelly Pete. He’s always got a story or two about where he’s bin an who he’s seen.

I ain’t talkin about some shyster pedlar man stoppin by every couple of months, he says. By the way, I’m still sore about them britches he tried to unload on me last time.

They was hummin all right, I says. Like a skunk wore ’em last. Hey wait, you fergot Procter.

Our only neighbor’s four leagues north of here. He’s a lone man, name of Procter John. He set up homestead jest around the time Lugh an me got born. He drops by once a month or
so. Not that he ever stops proper, mind. He don’t git down offa his horse, Hob, but jest pulls up by the hut. Then he says the same thing, every time.

G’day, Willem. How’s the young ’uns? All right?

They’re fine, Procter
, says Pa.
You?

Well enough to last a bit longer
.

Then he tips his hat an goes off an we don’t see him fer another month. Pa don’t like him. He never says so, but you can tell. You’d think he’d be glad of somebody to talk to besides us, but he never invites Procter to stay an take a dram.

Lugh says it’s on account of the chaal. We only know that’s what it’s called because one time I asked Pa what it is that Procter’s always chewin an Pa’s face went all tight an it was like he didn’t wanna tell us. But then he said it’s called chaal an it’s poison to the mind an soul, an if anybody ever offers us any we’re to say no. But since we never see nobody, such a offer don’t seem too likely.

Now Lugh shakes his head. You cain’t count Procter John, he says. Nero’s got more conversation than him. I swear, Saba, if I stay here, I’ll eether go crazy or I’ll end up killin Pa. I gotta go.

I scramble around, kneel in front of him.

I’m comin with you, I says.

Of course, he says. An we’ll take Emmi with us.

I don’t think Pa ’ud let us, I says. An she wouldn’t wanna go anyways. She’d rather stay with him.

You mean you’d rather she stayed, he says. We gotta take her with us, Saba. We cain’t leave her behind.

What about … maybe if you was to talk to Pa, he might see sense, I says. Then we could all go to a new place together.

He won’t, Lugh says. He cain’t leave Ma.

Whaddya mean? I says. Ma’s dead.

Lugh says, What I mean is … him an Ma made this place together an, in his mind, she’s still here. He cain’t leave her memory, that’s what I’m sayin.

But we’re the ones still alive, I says. You an me.

An Emmi, he says. I know that. But you see how he is. It’s like we don’t exist. He don’t give two hoots fer us.

Lugh thinks fer a moment. Then he says, Love makes you weak. Carin fer somebody that much means you cain’t think straight. Look at Pa. Who’d wanna end up like him? I ain’t never gonna love nobody. It’s better that way.

I don’t say naught. Jest trace circles in the dirt with my finger.

My gut twists. Like a mean hand reached right inside me an grabbed it.

Then I says, What about me?

Yer my sister, he says. It ain’t the same.

But what if I died? You’d miss me, wouldn’t you?

Huh, he says. Fat chance of you dyin an leavin me in peace. Always followin me everywhere, drivin me nuts. Since the day we was born.

It ain’t my fault yer the tallest thing around, I says. You make a good sunshade.

Hey! He pushes me onto my back.

I push him with my foot. Hey yerself! I prop myself up on my elbows. Well, I says, would you?

What?

Miss me.

Don’t be stupid, he says.

I kneel in front of him. He looks at me. Lugh’s got eyes as blue as the summer sky. Blue as the clearest water. Ma used to say his eyes was so blue, it made her want to sail away on ’em.

I’d miss you, I says. If you died, I’d miss you so much I’d wanna kill myself.

Don’t talk foolish, Saba.

Promise me you won’t, I says.

Won’t what?

Die.

Everybody’s gotta die one day, he says.

I reach out an touch his birthmoon tattoo. High on his right cheekbone, jest like mine, it shows how the moon looked in the sky the night we was born. It was a full moon that midwinter. That’s a rare thing. But twins born unner a full moon at the turnin of the year, that’s even rarer. Pa did the tattoos hisself, to mark us out as special.

We was eighteen year our last birthday. That must be four month ago, near enough.

When we die, I says, d’you think we’ll end up stars together, side by side?

You gotta stop thinkin like that, he says. I told you, that’s jest Pa’s nonsense.

Go on then, if you know so much, tell me what happens when you die.

I dunno. He sighs an flops back on the ground, squintin at the sky. You jest … stop. Yer heart don’t beat no more, you don’t breathe an then yer jest … gone.

An that’s it, I says.

Yeah.

Well that’s stupid, I says. I mean, we spend our lives doin all this … sleepin an eatin an fixin roofs an then it all jest … ends. Hardly seems worth the trouble.

Well, that’s the way it is, he says.

You … hey Lugh, you wouldn’t ever leave without me, would you?

Of course not, he says. But even if I did, you’d only follow me.

I will follow you … everywhere you go! When I say it, I make crazy eyes an a crazy face because it creeps him out when I do that. To the bottom of the lake, I says, … to the ends of the earth … to the moon … to the stars …!

Shut up! He leaps to his feet. Bet you don’t follow me to skip rocks, he says an runs off.

Hey! I yell. Wait fer me!

We run a fair ways out onto the dry lakebed before we find water enough to skip stones. We pass the skiff that Pa helped me an Lugh build when we was little kids. Now it lies high an dry where the shoreline used to be.

We walk till we’re outta sight of the shanty, outta sight of Pa an Emmi. The fierce noonday sun beats down an I wrap my sheema around my head so’s I don’t fry too much. I wish I took after Ma, like Lugh, but I favor Pa. It’s strange, but even with our dark hair, our skin burns if we don’t cover up.

Lugh never wears a sheema. Says they make him feel trapped an anyways the sun don’t bother him none. Not like me. When I tell him it’ll deserve him right if he drops dead from sunstroke one day, he says, well if that happens you can say I told you so. I will, too.

I find a pretty good stone right off. I rub my fingers over its flat smoothness. Feel its weight.

I got a lucky one here, I says.

Lugh hunts around to find one fer hisself. While he does it, I walk up an down on my hands. It’s about th’only thing I can do that he cain’t. He pretends he don’t care, but I know he does.

You look funny upside down, I says.

Lugh’s golden hair gleams in the sun. He wears it tied back
in one long braid that reaches almost to his waist. I wear mine the same, only my hair’s black as Nero’s feathers.

His necklace catches the light. I found the little ring of shiny green glass in the landfill an threaded it on a piece of leather. I gave it to him fer our eighteen year birthday an he ain’t took it off since.

What did he give me? Nuthin. Like always.

Okay I got a good one, he calls.

I go runnin over to take a look. Not as good as mine, I says.

I’m gonna skip eight today, he says. I feel it in my bones.

In yer dreams, I says. I’m callin a seven.

I whip my arm back an send the stone skimmin over the water. It skips once, twice, three times. Four, five, six …

Seven! I says. Seven! Didya see that?

I cain’t hardly believe it. I ain’t never done more’n five before.

Sorry, Lugh says. I warn’t lookin. Guess you’ll hafta do it agin.

What! My best ever an you didn’t … you rat! You did see! Yer jest sick with jealousy. I fold my arms over my chest. Go on. Let’s see you do eight. Betcha cain’t.

He does seven. Then I do my usual five. He’s jest pullin his arm back fer another try when, outta nowhere, Nero comes swoopin down at us, cawin his head off.

Damn bird, says Lugh, he made me drop my stone. He gits on his knees to look fer it.

Go away! I says, flappin my hands at Nero. Shoo, you bad boy! Go find somebody else to—

A dustcloud’s jest appeared on the horizon. A billowin orange mountain of dust. It’s so tall, it scrapes aginst the sun. It’s movin fast. Headed straight at us.

Uh … Lugh, I says.

There must be somethin in my voice. He looks up sharpish. Drops the stone in his hand. Gits slowly to his feet.

Holy crap, he says.

We jest stand there. Stand an stare. We git all kinda weather here. Hotwinds, firestorms, tornadoes, an once or twice we even had snow in high summer. So I seen plenty of dust storms. But never one like this.

That’s one bastard of a cloud, I says.

We better git outta here, says Lugh.

We start to back away slow, still starin. Then, Run, Saba! Lugh yells.

He grabs my hand, yankin at me till my feet move, an then we’re runnin. Runnin fer home, fast as wolfdogs on the hunt.

I look over my shoulder an git a shock. The dustcloud’s halfways across the lake. I never seen one move so fast. We got a minute, two at most, before it’s on us.

We cain’t outrun it! I yell at Lugh. It’s comin too fast!

The shanty comes into view an we start to shout an wave our arms.