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Authors: V.C. Andrews

Runaways (36 page)

BOOK: Runaways
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“Ride a horse? I don't know about that,” Crystal muttered.

“Oh come on, Crystal. If I can do it, you can do it,” Raven teased.

“Since when can you do it?” Crystal asked.

“I can do it.” She looked at Tommy. “Can't I?”

“Nothing to it,” he said.

“Can I go too?” Butterfly asked. Tommy looked at Anita.

“Sure you can,” she said. “Tommy will saddle up Princess,” she added and started for the house. Butterfly followed quickly.

I saw by the expression on Tommy's face that something significant had been said.

“Which horse is Princess?” I asked, looking toward the corral.

“The pony,” he said. “She was our little girl's horse, Annie's horse, and no one has ridden it since . . . since Annie died.

“Before this,” he added with a look of wonder, “Anita wouldn't even consider it.”

16

Home at Last

“W
e're going to have a picnic,” Butterfly announced excitedly when we entered the house.

“It's not exactly a picnic,” Anita said from the kitchen doorway. “We'll just have lunch in the back. We have picnic tables there.”

“Can we help?” Raven asked.

“Everything we need is here on the counter in the kitchen,” Anita explained. “Butterfly will show you.”

Proud she was given a leadership role, Butterfly led us to the plates and silverware, the place mats, glasses, fresh lemonade, loaves of homemade bread and condiments. We each took something and Butterfly showed us the table.

The back of the house was a wonderful setting for eating outdoors. From here we could see the mountains and we noticed the very tops had snow on them. The brook ran close by, the water gurgling
loud enough for us to hear it wind around the rocks. Anita came out with Tommy right behind her. She was carrying a large clay bowl and set it down on the table. We all sat. Tommy looked very pleased.

“Thanks to you girls, I've got my favorite soup for lunch,” he declared.

“I make it often enough, Tommy Edwards,” Anita said and began to ladle it out to each of our bowls.

“It smells wonderful. What is it?” Raven asked.

“Tortilla soup with chicken, avocado and lime,” Anita said. She served herself and sat.

“As good as ever,” Tommy said after his first spoonful.

“It's very good,” I said. It was.

“I helped make it,” Butterfly beamed. “Didn't I, Anita?”

She lifted her eyes to her and smiled.

“Janet cut the tortillas and fried them herself,” she said.

“A tortilla is Indian food, isn't it?” Raven asked.

“Southwestern, Mexican, we all share in its origins,” Tommy said.

“Are you both full-blood Navajo?” Crystal asked.

Anita shifted her eyes to Tommy, who smiled.

“There's a debate about that,” he said.

“I was reading about the Navajo in that book you have,” Crystal continued. “The tribe is divided into more than fifty clans. I thought it was interesting that descent is traced through the female line.”

“Yes, we are the first true women's liberators,” Tommy joked.

“You are also the second largest Indian tribe in the U.S.,” Crystal said.

“Crystal's an A student,” Raven cut in. “Give her a day and she'll tell you more about yourself than even you know.”

“I just don't like wasting time,” Crystal said defensively, “so I read.”

“I'm flattered that you wanted to know more about us,” Tommy said. “You probably will soon know more than I do.”

“That's for sure,” Anita said.

Tommy raised his eyes and then smiled. Anita seemed to realize that she had said something funny and immediately looked down. She was like a candle trying to flicker again. Every time there was a small spark of hope, she smothered it herself with guilt.

“This area may not be rich in gas or oil, but to me it's rich in other ways,” Tommy said.

“I've always been interested in Native Americans,” Crystal said. “Do you believe the wind is spiritual?”

“I believe there is something very spiritual about all of nature,” Tommy said. “I believe the farther you go from nature, the farther you are from what is spiritual. That's why we live out here.”

“I love it here!” Butterfly said. Actually, she just burst out with it as if it were something ready to explode in her heart. All of us were silent a moment. Then we heard the phone ringing.

“I'll get that,” Tommy said and hurried into the house.

“Do you have any Indian costumes?” Raven asked Anita.

“Costumes? Yes, I suppose you would call it that. I have something you might want to see,” she added. “After we eat, I'll show you. My mother
made it for me a long time ago, and I think, it might just fit you.”

“Really?” Raven's eyes filled with excitement. Anita actually smiled. It was as if her face was slowly unfreezing.

“That,” Tommy said returning, “was the Child Protection Services.”

“Are they on their way?” I asked sadly.

“No. They can't make it out here today. They asked me to bring you to the sheriff to have you shipped to Albuquerque.”

“Shipped? What are they, produce?” Anita said before we could react.

“I told them it was all right for the girls to stay overnight,” he said. He waited. “Is it?”

“Of course,” Anita said. “You didn't have to ask,” she added, and with tears in her eyes she got up to start bringing things back to the house.

Butterfly jumped up immediately and began picking up our bowls and dishes. When she had her arms full, she followed Anita. Tommy sat quietly.

“Anita,” he began slowly, “has not been well since Annie's death. She has moments when she simply cannot stop crying and then there are times when she is so withdrawn, I feel she's not really there. Don't be upset with her.”

“Oh no,” I said.

“Never,” Raven added.

“We understand what it means to lose someone you love,” Crystal added.

Tommy smiled.

“I know you do, girls. Well, let's go to the corral and saddle up some horses. I might as well show you some of this reservation before you have to leave,” he said.

“Can't we just ride around in your Jeep?” Crystal pleaded.

“It's not the same. You want to feel what it's like, experience authenticity. You're the one who's learning all about us,” Tommy kidded.

Crystal's face fell.

“Stop worrying,” Tommy said. “You'll do fine. I'll give you Horse With No Name.”

“No name? Why doesn't he have a name?” Crystal asked.

“He never stands still long enough for us to get him to understand one,” Tommy said.

“What?” She cried.

Everyone laughed. Then we got up and helped carry the rest of the dishes back to the house. Afterward, Anita came out to watch Tommy saddle the horses and the pony for Butterfly. He began with a little lecture about riding.

“Your horses will all follow mine,” he assured us. “They are trained to do that, so don't worry. The key is never panic, never transmit your fear to the animal. He will sense it and he will become nervous. You're in control.”

He helped Butterfly mount the pony. She looked like she had been put on a throne. Never had we seen her look more radiant and happy. When I looked back at Anita, I saw her standing there, her arms folded, staring with a small smile on her lips.

Tommy shouted something to her in language we didn't understand and she shook her head.

“You just be careful with them, Tommy Edwards, policeman,” she warned. He laughed.

“Okay, girls. Do what I told you to do,” he said. We nudged our horses with the heels of our shoes and they started after Tommy. Everyone bounced a bit. Crystal was holding on for dear life.

“Tommy said not to hold the saddle,” Raven reminded her.

“I know what he said,” Crystal quipped. She held her breath, closed her eyes and continued to look terrified as we trailed along toward the mountains, the four of us, never expecting in our wildest imaginations to be on horses with a Navajo Native American showing us his world of natural wonders.

Despite her fears, Crystal enjoyed the ride as much as any of us. She and Tommy talked about rocks and animals, the desert and the Navajo people. Raven was a natural and Butterfly looked like she could ride forever on her pony. We really didn't go that far, but it seemed that way to us. At one point we stopped to rest and Tommy asked us more questions about our life back at Lakewood. Crystal explained why we felt trapped. That was when Tommy revealed he had been adopted, too.

“I was still with family,” he said. “My uncle and aunt.”

“What happened to your father and mother?” Raven asked.

“My mother had me out of wedlock. My father never acknowledged me and my mother's parents were very upset. You might have caught Anita smiling a little when you asked if I was a full-blooded Navajo. Some felt I wasn't. I think the most important thing is what's in your heart. That will tell people who you really are. All the rest is superficial. You know what that means.”

“If we didn't, Crystal would jump to tell us,” Raven inserted. Tommy laughed.

“You have a different sort of saddle sore, girls. It comes from traveling with each other,” he added, laughing. “But,” he added after a moment of looking at us, “I bet you would fight like a trapped
mountain lion if someone tried to separate you all from each other now.”

“Yes,” I said. “We would.”

He nodded, and a look of sadness crossed his lace.

“The sun's descent tells me it's about three-thirty. We had better head back. I have some chores to do and a short patrol before dinner,” he added.

We mounted and started back, watching the sun reach the top of the mountains. The shadows grew longer in some places, filling the crevices and valleys with a soft darkness. Above us a hawk cut a wide circle in the sky. Tommy said it could see a desert rat even from that height.

What a strange and wonderful world this place was, I thought. For a while it had made us forget our dreams. Raven hadn't talked about being a singing star. Crystal didn't mention school, and I had stopped fantasizing about finding my real mother.

Anita was waiting for us when we returned. We expected to get off the horses and that would be that, but Tommy explained that we had to walk them a little and he wanted us to help put away the livery.

“You must take good care of the things you love out here or you won't have them long,” he told us.

“Sometimes, that doesn't help,” Anita commented. Their eyes met for a moment and he looked away. Butterfly was excused to return to the house with her so she could wash up and help Anita prepare our supper. “I'll get the beds ready, too,” Anita said.

“Wasn't there anything that could be done about Annie?” I asked Tommy.

“We tried, took her to the biggest hospital and
they operated, but her heart was too small. Anita has been afraid of having another child. She thinks it will be born with the same or some similar defect. She's more superstitious than I am,” he added sadly.

“There are ways to test the fetus as it develops,” Crystal told him, “to see if there are any defects.”

He smiled at her.

“There is a different drumbeat in Anita's heart now. Maybe someday soon it will change.”

We worked on our horses and then we all went into the house to wash up. Anita had fixed the two guest bedrooms for us. On one of the beds was a beautiful deerskin dress decorated with turquoise beads. She told Raven to try it on and she did. I had to admit that she looked fantastic. Everyone thought so.

“Maybe you have Navajo blood, too,” Tommy laughed.

Raven asked if she could wear it to dinner and Anita told her she could. Before dinner Butterfly asked Anita about the drums she and Tommy had in the living room–den area. To Tommy's surprise and our delight, Anita played and sang a Navajo corn-grinding song. Her voice was deep and rich and I could feel her heritage, proud and alive, still thumping in her injured heart. Tommy showed Butterfly some ceremonial dance steps and in seconds, she was doing it as well, if not better than he. Anita actually laughed, the sound of it cracking the layers of icy sadness that had fallen over the walls of this home.

For our dinner Anita, with Butterfly at her side in the kitchen, had prepared chicken fajitas with rice and beans. It was a Mexican feast and something none of us had experienced before.

“My stomach is grateful you girls got lost on the reservation,” Tommy declared.

“Tommy Edwards, if you let these girls believe I don't cook for you otherwise, I'll scalp you,” Anita snapped. He laughed and held up his hands.

“I'm just fooling, girls. She would do it.”

The difference between the atmosphere at breakfast and now at dinner was remarkable. We were all more relaxed. It had been a wonderful day, a surprise of joy. The phone rang again before we had completed our clean-up and Tommy returned to tell us the FBI had located Gordon Tooey.

BOOK: Runaways
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