The Brushstroke Legacy (6 page)

Across the river loomed a pyramid-shaped formation, up among the other buttes and hills. The road angled south, grass on both sides, the hills off to the left more rounded than those across the river. They had yet to see the water.

“Oh, my, look at that.” Ragni slowed the car at the sight of several turkeys in the brush to the side of the road. She reached to tap Erika, but the girl was sound asleep again.
Too bad, kid. Two years ago you’d have been on the edge of your seat, not missing a thing
. She continued on the dirt road, driving slowly so as to keep the plume of dust behind them from reaching the sky.

Wild turkeys. Once she’d read that wild turkeys were wily and could easily disappear in tall grass and brush. But she’d gotten to see them. Was that a harbinger of good things to come?

Up ahead, several trees towered over the road. Were these the Cottonwood trees she’d heard of? A long, low building of logs off to the right must be the place. Looping her arms over the steering wheel, she
drove even more slowly.
Old
was right. That tiny tipsy building must be the privy. Square-wire fencing with a drunken gate surrounded the house and privy. The huge trees shaded the house from the east. The door to the cabin was closed. Would it be locked? The window to the left of the door was solid, and from where she’d stopped, the roof looked to be in place. Since the gate was so close to the road, she drove on to the south side of the fence and pulled into the grass and weeds.

Looking at the house from this vantage point, she could see a missing windowpane, another door, and what must have been the yard. Part of the fencing had fallen down, but a climbing yellow rose still bloomed along a sloping wood rail.

Great-grandmother, you who once lived here, what do you have for me?

“Are we there?” Erika blinked and stared, her eyes rounding as she saw the house. “That’s it?”

“I believe so. We made it.”

Off to the left, various sheds and low buildings fought to remain standing. Rail fences made of branches must have been the corrals. Ragni recognized a loading chute—some sections were still intact, others were crumbling, the grass nearly as tall as the fences in places.
Is this all that’s left of the Peterson place? Did they farm this entire valley way back when?

She forced her attention back to the house, wondering if there was any chance they could fix it up enough to stay in it for the next two weeks. Maybe rancher Paul was right about bulldozing it down.

Erika swung open her car door and got out. “I hate to say this, but I need to go to the John.”

“Choose your tree. I wouldn’t use that privy until we check it out.”

“But what if someone comes?”

“Who’s going to come, and how could they get here without us being aware of them?” Ragni swept her arm at the surrounding emptiness.

“But how will I wash my hands afterward? And what about toilet paper?”

Darlin’, that might be the least of your worries.
“Watch out for snakes.”

Erika leaped back in the car without touching the ground. “I hate snakes. You can’t make me get out of this car.”

Ragni leaned against the door frame to study the house.

The logs were square cut and chinked with what must have been concrete, showing white against the dark wood. The trees rustled above her.
Do they know the secrets I want to find? Who planted them? Who built the house and the other buildings? Was all this here when Great-grandmother arrived?
She glanced across the slight rise with waving weeds and grass.
The river. How far away? And how many snakes really live here?

She picked up a dead branch half-buried in the grass and broke off pieces to make a fairly straight stick. If she made enough noise, surely no self-respecting snake would stay around.

She started toward the rise, swishing the stick in the grass in front of her.

“Where are you going?” Erika hollered.

“To see the river.” Ragni kept on, waving the stick ahead of her and pushing through the deep grass. She glanced back over her shoulder. “You’re welcome to come with.”

“What if you see a snake?” Erika now stood beside the car, hiding behind the open door.

“I’m sure the snakes are more afraid of me than I am of them.”
Please, Lord, let it be so.
She caught herself. Interesting that she’d been praying more since this trip began than she had in a long time. At the top of the small rise she stopped in surprise. She’d pictured a river of blue or blue-green water, but this was a river the color of light sand. The thought of swimming was not appealing at the moment. She made her way around a dead tree trunk lying where the river had dumped it and stopped at the edge of the water.

Ragni vaguely remembered her mother telling of playing in this river when she went to see her grandma.
Was it deep? How could you tell, other than wading out in it?
She bent down and dabbled her hand in the water. Still mighty brisk for swimming, but after a few hours of working on that house, a dip might feel really good. Another memory drifted in—her mother talking about fishing at Grandma’s house. Funny how, all of a sudden, her mother’s stories were floating to the surface.
Maybe I know more about this place than I think I do.

Hearing clumps and rustles, she looked back toward the house and smiled. Halfway across the bank, Erika no longer wore that sullen “I don’t give a rip” look. Eyes narrowed, she studied each shadow as if it might leap up and bite her. But she couldn’t resist the call of the river either.

She’d been a water baby since she was born. When other babies screamed at their first bath, Erika had wriggled like a fish; her first smiles came when she was kicking in the tub. She’d never minded getting her face wet, so learning to float facedown was a cinch.

“I took you swimming when you were only six months old. I think you were born with gills instead of lungs the way you never
minded being underwater. Other babies screamed when they went under, and you always came up grinning from ear to ear.”

Erika sat down beside her aunt, her wrists draped over her knees. “I really do need to go to the bathroom, you know.”

“As I said…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What do you expect, that we’ll drive back to town every time you need to pee?”

“Well, no, but…” Erika snorted. “Nobody told me it was going to be this rough.”

“I said we were going camping.”

“I know, but most camping places have public rest rooms.”

“True. I guess the first thing we need to do is haul up a bucket of water and scrub the outhouse.” The thought didn’t make Ragni want to sing and dance either. “You get the bucket out of the trunk and bring up the water. I’ll dig out the bleach and a scrub brush. We have to get the tent set up this afternoon.”

“When are we goin’ through the house?”

“As soon as we fix a place where you can use the facilities. Can’t really call it a bathroom, now can we?”

Erika shuddered, then leaned forward to put her hand in the water. “It’s cold.”

Ragni almost made a sarcastic remark but thought better of it. “What did you expect?”

“Well, it’s warm out. Doesn’t the sun warm the water up too?”

“Think of Lake Michigan at this time of year.”

“Oh.”

Ragni stood and stretched. “Better get on it.” She reached down,
and Erika let Ragni pull her to her feet. The two stood for a moment staring at the buttes rising from the screen of trees across the river. Pristine white clouds painted the sky an even deeper blue.
I want to paint that.
The thought caught her by surprise, almost shock. She turned in a circle. The falling-down corrals, those turkeys she’d seen, the cabin—they all cried out to be painted in watercolor, oil, or both. Her fingers itched to begin; her heart welled up and sprung leaks through her eyes.
How long has it been since I actually painted, not on a computer, but on paper or canvas? Smelled the oils and turpentine? Can I even paint anymore? What if I just made a mess like I’ve done with the rest of my life?

Of course you can still paint
, the other voice kicked in. One voice always tore down the other.

Forget it. You won’t have any time for painting and drawing. You have that house to get back in shape, remember? And less than two weeks to do it all.

“Did you bring a camera?” Ragni asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Nada.” Ragni sighed.
It was a crazy thought anyway.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Probably not, unless you have to…”

“I know.” Ragni draped an arm over her niece’s shoulders and was surprised when Erika didn’t step away. “Let’s get on it.” She led the way back to the car, her stick swishing the grass with a friendly sound. The same bird song that she’d heard at the motel joined in.

“Isn’t that beautiful?”

“What?”

“The bird song.”

“I guess.”

“Wish I knew what kind of bird that is.”

“So, go buy a book on birds.”

“Good idea.” Ragni inserted the key, and the trunk popped open as if it couldn’t stay closed any longer. She studied the mass.
Now, where did I pack the cleaning supplies?
She pulled out her duffel bag and dug down on the right side of the trunk. Pushing aside the tent package, she located the bucket filled with brushes, soap, bleach, scrub rags, and rubber gloves. “Here we go.” She closed the trunk and set the supplies on top of it, handing Erika the empty bucket. “I’ll meet you at the privy.”

Erika groaned but took the bucket and headed back to the river. “We’d better hurry.”

Ragni grabbed gloves, the long-handled brush, bleach, and a rag and walked around to the front of the house to enter through the gate. When she pushed against it, the gate fell over instead of swinging open. Whoever had closed it last had just propped it in place.

She set her supplies down, already wishing for a second bucket— first thing on the shopping list. She leaned the gate against the sagging fence and headed across the yard, if it could be called that, toward the tilting outhouse. Weathered silver gray, the vertical boards had buckled at the bottom, and more than one needed a few nails pounded in to tighten the siding.
Perhaps it would be easier to just dig a hole and… No, we can do this.
She used her stick to bang on the door, slamming a warning to anything that inhabited the interior. The handle squawked when she turned it, but it took two hands to pull the door open. A wooden bench stretched from one wall to the other, with a hole cut in the middle and narrow boards facing the
front. She needed a broom to take down all the cobwebs, but it didn’t look like any other critters had taken up residence. At least none she could see.

Using her brush as a weapon, she cleared the doorway enough to step inside and look down the hole, into blackness but for a small beam of light from one side.
Oh, for a hose with running water. We could clean this in a minute.
A spiderweb fell across her face as she stepped back. Trapping a scream before it found air, she backed out and ordered her heart to take it easy while she wiped the offending threads away.

If that’s the worst that happens, consider yourself lucky.
She paused to listen. What if bees had moved in? Surely she would hear humming.
Just get to work. You want Erika to think you’re a wimp?
Somehow the self-talk lacked conviction at this point.

“It looks like it might fall over.” Erika set the bucket down at their feet. For someone wearing combat boots, she sometimes walked like a cat.

“I’m sure it’s sturdier than it appears. After all, there’ve been windstorms and bad winters, and it’s still standing. Would you please go get the broom?”

“You really came with everything, didn’t you?”

“I tried.” Ragni watched as Erika strode back to the car. Right now those boots of hers looked like a good idea. But laced and tied would make more sense. Ragni stared down at her white tennis shoes.
Number two on the shopping list: boots.

Knowing how Erika hated spiders, she’d better get them cleaned out first. Wielding her long-handled brush like a sword, Ragni brushed her way in, knocking down castle-sized webs and sending
their inhabitants scurrying into the abundance of corners and cracks. She brushed them from the slanted roof and along the upper framework, down the walls and the floor. Then, having poured bleach and soap into the bucket of tan water, she started at the top and scrubbed her way down, sloshing plenty of water into the corners and cracks.

“Yuck.” Erika shuddered and made a face. “You have cobwebs in your hair.”

“Get ’em out.” Ragni frantically brushed at her hair.

Erika complied, all the while making tsking noises. “There.”

Ragni shuddered. “Thanks. From now on, I wear a scarf over my hair.”

“Did you bring a cap with you?”

“No, did you?”

Erika nodded. “I’ll get it.” Back to the car.

Ragni stared at the hole in the center of the bench. What lived in there, and how to…? She stepped outside and hollered. “Bring a flashlight, will you please? It’s in the glove box.” While she waited, she tipped part of the remaining water down the hole, stepped back, and listened. If she heard something moving around down there, she’d probably join Erika—with her feet never touching the grass between the privy and the car.

Nothing.
What would want to live in there anyway? Anything that wanted dark and protection, that’s what. Which meant
—Her mind balked at the possibilities. Most likely rabbits weren’t inhabitants.
Good thing we don’t have to trap rabbits for food like they do in books. Or shoot a deer. Now that would be the day when I did that.

“Here.” Erika handed her a hat and the flashlight. “Is it ready to use?”

“About. You’ll need toilet paper. There’s a roll of that in the trunk too.”

Erika rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you say that earlier? Where?”

“In the box with the dishes and pots and pans. Further back, same side.” As soon as Erika stomped back toward the car, Ragni dug up her courage and shone the beam down the hole. Looked like a pile of dirt in the bottom with nothing scampering out of sight. She dipped the brush in the remaining water and flailed around under the bench, reaching to the walls on all four sides and scrubbing the underside of the bench as well. Then she sluiced the last of the water over the floor and watched it run off through the cracks between the boards.

Erika returned and peeked inside. “I’m not closing this door, so you turn around and stand there, okay?”

“Did I hear a ‘please’ in that?” Ragni raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, for…
Please
stand there. Is that better?”

“Much.” Ragni turned her back and studied the house from this side.
Three sets of windows. How many people lived in this house at the same time? The last section seems to have been added on. Was that after Great-grandma had come?

“There now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked as Erika joined her.

“I didn’t fall in, if that’s what you mean. I left the TP.”

“Thanks.” Ragni stepped in and pulled the door closed. There was plenty of light coming in from the cracks and a couple of knotholes. Above the door, an opening must have once been covered by a screen. A huge fly buzzed around her head.
I’ll never take my bathroom at home for granted again
, she promised herself.
That and running water. Third item on the list: Handi Wipes for washing hands.

Back outside, she dumped the cleaning things in the bucket and headed for the house. “You ready to explore?”

“I guess. How about one of those caramel rolls first?”

“You hungry?”

“Uh-huh. I tried to call Mom, but the cell phone doesn’t work here.”

Very good. At least Erika remembered she had family.

“It didn’t in Medora either,” Ragni said. “The way the town is set down in the valley messes up the signal, I guess.”

“She’ll be worried.”

“No she won’t. I called from the phone in the hotel. We used to do that all the time, in the olden days, before cell phones.”

Erika ignored her aunt’s sarcasm. “But how will I talk with my friends?”

The look of panic on Erika’s face made Ragni want to laugh, but she resisted the urge. “Save it for when we go to town, I guess, and use a pay phone.” Right about now, Ragni wished she’d thought to bring a thermos along to fill with coffee. A cup of hot coffee to go with the caramel roll sounded like a fine reward for cleaning the outhouse.
To think I agreed to all this instead of two weeks in a cabin at the lake with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, a loft, and indoor plumbing.
She handed Erika the bucket. “We need more water.”