Skies Like These (13 page)

“That's not what Roy thinks.”

“Roy is a twelve-year-old boy who lets his imagination run wild at times. He'll figure things out on his own soon enough. And, the truth is, William was far better at dealing with customers than he was running the actual business. Roy may have a hard time seeing it, but closing the store was a relief for his dad.”

“Have you told Roy that?”

“We've tried.” She let out a soft laugh. “But Roy hears what Roy wants to hear.”

Jade knew that was true. “The problem is”—this was where Jade chose her words with care—“I'm worried he might be doing things over at Farley's that he shouldn't.”

“Like what?” Mrs. Parker asked.

Jade sighed. She was willing to tell enough to let Roy's parents know they should check in on him, but she wasn't willing to rat him out completely. “I just think you should talk to him.”

“Okay,” Mrs. Parker said. “I'll talk to him.”

Jade reached into her pocket and pulled out the Juniper Festival flyer. “I got this over at the YMCA. It's a poetry contest and I thought you could enter.”

Mrs. Parker took the paper. “I do love a good poetry reading, but I'm afraid I'd fail miserably at this one. I have lived most of my adult life in Wyoming, but I know shamefully little about classic Western life.”

“That's the beauty of it,” Jade said. “You know poetry and Roy knows everything about being a cowboy. He could tell you the facts and you could transform them.”

“My writing has to come from deep within my heart. It has to be a subject matter I feel strongly about.”

“Roy feels strongly about campfires and cattle hauls. It could also be about simple things like the weather or the prairie.”

“It would be nice to work together. Was he interested?”

“I think so.”

Mrs. Parker read the flyer again. “I guess our first order of business is convincing him.” She took the flyer into the kitchen and stuck it behind a Scrabble-letter magnet on the refrigerator. “Let me plead our case. I'll strike up a fire in the pit out back and have a weenie roast where we cook hot dogs on skewers and eat pork and beans right out of the can.” She turned to Jade. “It softens him up every time.”

 

25

On Friday, as Jade walked home from Farley's, cool wind teased the sweetness from the trees. It was Roy's second day riding with Stuart and Jade had gone by to watch him—sitting high on his black mare and wearing a smile that could stretch all the way back to Philly. Stuart taught him how to dance the horse behind the goats and guide them from one field into another. Roy never had to be told how to do something twice.

Jade pulled out her phone and looked at the time. Five ten-year-olds would be coming for Aunt Elise's first stargazing course in a little while and she had to finish frosting the cake. She picked up her pace. Sagebrush dotted out across the fields like silver freckles on a beige landscape. Gauzy clouds layered the sky above in varying shades of pink. And as always, the Tetons stood watch over their valley. Jade looked up at those raspberry-swirled clouds and thought about Tilly in her pink house—how she would love the sky at that moment.

Aunt Elise was sitting on the step of her front porch, sleeping dogs huddled around her, when Jade came up the driveway. “How is Roy's riding coming along?”

“He's a natural,” Jade said. “I still can't believe you knew we were working for Farley.”

“There's no harm in a little covert adventure. That's the kind of stuff Roy lives for.” Then she looked down to the dogs and gave Lobo a pat on the head. “Let him have his secret for now. He seems to be having such fun.”

The memory of Roy taking inventory in Farley's living room came creeping back and Jade wondered if she was making the right decision by keeping that information to herself.

“I had to cancel the party tonight,” Aunt Elise said.

“Why?”

“Storm's blowing in, and it looks like a doozy.”

Jade turned back to the raspberry sky. Far behind the swirls were heavy, soot-colored clouds. “Are you sure those aren't the kind of clouds that make a lot of noise but don't do much else? What if we passed out umbrellas?”

“Nope,” Aunt Elise said. “It wouldn't be safe to allow the party to go on. I remember this particular rule from my Intro to Business class back in college: Allowing children to get sizzled by lightning will quite often hurt your bottom line.

“The good news is, we got a booking for a Boy Scout merit-badge class for Monday and the weather report looks more hopeful.”

“Will the birthday party reschedule?”

“No,” Aunt Elise said. “Her mom said they'd make other plans. She really wanted to celebrate her daughter's birthday on the actual day.”

“But what about the cake? I spent all morning on it, not to mention the fresh-squeezed lemonade and strawberry tea in the refrigerator.”

“It'd be a shame to have it go to waste,” Aunt Elise agreed. “Hey!” She slapped her hands on the step, which sent Lobo and Yaz skittering away. “How about I invite the Parkers over? We can batten down the hatches and have an old-fashioned storm watch.”

“What's that?”

“You know, we turn off all the lights, sit by the windows, and eat goodies while counting lightning strikes.” She pushed Emerson off her lap. “I'll give them a quick call. And it'd probably be a good idea to tarp the kennels for the dogs, too.”

“Should we bring them in?”

“Copernicus would have a heart attack. They all have good houses and warm, dry straw to climb into. If we cover the chain link on their kennels to keep the heavy winds and rain out, they'll be fine.”

Jade looked up at the sky again. Already, the delicate pink clouds were fading against a backdrop of darkness. Red dust, whipped up by a sudden wind, whirled in the air, making the whole place look like a faded picture in a Western storybook. One raindrop fell on Jade's shoulder, and another on her cheek. “I'll never understand the weather out here.”

“It's like we say: Welcome to Wyoming. If you don't like the weather, just wait five minutes. Let's get the pups safe.”

Jade began herding the dogs into their respective homes. First the Governor, followed by Lobo, Yaz, Emerson, Jack, and Astro. “You, too,” Jade said to Genghis Khan, who was stretched out on a grassy spot on the lawn. “Come on.” He clearly had no intention of moving.

Astro snorted and grumbled at him. Genghis Khan must have known size wins out over stubborn every time because he slowly stood up and moseyed over to his pen. “Thanks for your help,” Jade said, reaching her fingers through the chain link of Astro's kennel and rubbing them across his nose.

Aunt Elise came around from the garage, pulling a stack of plastic tarps behind her. “They're coming,” she said, referring to the Parkers. “And they're in the mood for cake, too.”

“Great.” Jade was glad her morning of preparation hadn't been wasted.

A small dirt devil twisted and skipped across the yard, snatching up dead leaves and clumps of dog fur as it went. “We need to tie these tarps across the roof of each kennel, as well as on the north and west sides—that's the path this tempest is on,” Aunt Elise said. The wild-rose bushes bent and swayed under the pressure of the wind and purple petals flitted off into the hazy sky.

Jade helped her aunt drape and lash the heavy tarps to the posts of each kennel, blocking out the wind and offering each dog a snug area to relax in. She turned their plywood houses to face east and pushed clean straw around each arched doorway. As she worked, the wind kept getting stronger and the raindrops kept landing closer and closer together.

Aunt Elise double knotted the last rope to the last fence post. “Good work,” she said, wiping her forearm across her brow. “Feel that heat? There's about to be a huge crash between this hot air lingering above us and a cold front moving in from Canada. Conditions like these make for dangerous storms.”

Once inside, Aunt Elise piled candles and matches and two LED lanterns onto the kitchen table. “The Parkers said they would bring a game,” she said.

“Which one?”

“Clue, I think.”

Solving a murder in the midst of a pounding storm sounded creepily fun.

“I hope I get to be Miss Scarlet,” Aunt Elise said. “I love Miss Scarlet. How's the storm coming?”

Jade looked out the kitchen window. The clouds in the distance were much closer. Their undersides were shredded and reaching down to the earth … smudged like a chalk picture. Aunt Elise came up beside her. “See how they pull down to the ground like that?”

“Yeah.”

“That's what rain looks like. Those heavy streaks mean lots of water coming our way.” She looked at the clock above the stove. “Where are those Parkers?”

As if on cue, the back door swung open and the three Parkers came in amid a flurry of wind and dust. Mr. Parker pushed the door closed with both hands. “This storm is a cow tipper for sure,” he said.

The image made Jade giggle.

“You think I'm joking?” Mr. Parker was playing it up. “I've seen it happen.”

Mrs. Parker gave his arm a gentle hit. “You have not.”

Mr. Parker looked as innocent as an angel. “I have indeed! Big old cows lying on their backs with their little hooves pointing up to heaven.” He shook his head. “It's a tragic sight.”

They gathered around the table and began playing a game of Clue. Roy was guessing Colonel Mustard did it in the library with the wrench when the brunt of the storm hit.

A deep and rumbling roll of thunder wrapped around the house, shaking it good. Lightning flashed through the window, a resounding
crack
pierced the air, and with one flicker, the power went out.

“Poor cows,” Mr. Parker said in the pitch-dark.

Everyone laughed.

“I hope the dogs are okay,” Jade said.

“Those dogs were born and raised under these Wyoming skies.” Aunt Elise turned on one of the LED lanterns. “They are in their houses and their kennels are protected with strong tarps. No need to worry there.”

“Let's do candles,” Mrs. Parker suggested. “It's more cozy.”

Aunt Elise fumbled for a box of matches and turned the lantern off. A single strike brought a light to illuminate her face. She ceremoniously lit five pillar candles.

“Much better,” Mrs. Parker said.

Shadows danced on the walls as the golden flames sputtered and glimmered on the table. Jade pulled the unfrosted cake from the kitchen countertop. “I wasn't able to finish it,” she said, cutting slices. “It's not perfect.”

“Uh-uh-uh.” Aunt Elise waved a finger in the air. “It's like I always say, perfect…”

Jade, Mr. Parker, Mrs. Parker, and Roy finished the sentence in unison: “… Has no personality.”

 

26

Rain pounded, lightning slashed, and thunder roared long into the night. Roy and his parents decided to stay over. Aunt Elise pulled out sleeping bags, quilts, and at least twenty pillows. She pushed aside the living room couch and coffee table and piled the mound of blankets and pillows in the middle of the room. Mrs. Parker moved the candles in from the kitchen and lined them along the windowsill. Jade watched their reflection flicker and shine against the black glass.

Mr. Parker stood at that large living room window, his back to the others. A gash of lightning cut across the sky as the rain kept battering down on the adobe house. “The land lines are down, I'll try my cell.” He was attempting to call Angelo and Tilly to be sure they were all right. Them, and a whole list of other people in town he helped from time to time.

Roy set up two sleeping bags and a mound of pillows on one side of the room. He sat on a sleeping bag and motioned for Jade to sit on the other.

“My mom asked me to enter the Juniper Festival poetry contest with her,” Roy said, tucking a pillow behind his head.

“Are you going to do it?”

“I guess so. Sit down, I have a confession to make.”

Jade sat. “What kind of confession?”

“Promise you won't be mad.” Roy's knee started to bop and bounce.

“What did you do?”

Roy looked over to the window where the adults were counting lightning strikes. “I sent away for my genealogy.” He had the goofiest expression. “It's coming, Jade. The proof is on its way.”

“Why would I be ups—” Then it hit her. “You used our money from Farley, didn't you?”

“I had no choice.”

“It was supposed to be for you-know-who.” Jade jerked her head toward Mr. Parker.

“There's still some left. Are you mad at me?”

“I guess not.”

“Good, because I'm excited.” He was squirming all around that navy-blue sleeping bag.

“But what if…” Jade couldn't bring herself to say what she was actually thinking. To ask Roy what he would do if his grand assumptions were proven wrong. “Never mind.”

Aunt Elise came away from the window. “It's moving on.”

Jade thought the rain seemed as heavy as ever. “How do you know?”

Aunt Elise pointed to Copernicus, who was slinking out from under the couch. “That cat is the best weatherman this side of the moon. If he's showing his face, the worst is behind us.”

Copernicus bounded onto a couch cushion, stretched, and yawned. His scratchy tongue curled out like a wave. The rain overhead went from a pounding to a patter and faded out to nothing. Long strands of moonlight sliced through the dark clouds.

“Well,” Aunt Elise said, “I guess our impromptu sleepover is canceled.”

“We're not going anywhere.” Mrs. Parker was making a bed in the middle of the room. “Who has a good ghost story?”

“Did I ever tell you guys about when Butch was haunted by the spirit of an old railroad hand?” Roy asked.