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Authors: Tess Oliver

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BOOK: Bitterroot Crossing
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    “Thanks for the offer,” I said, “but I’d rather just get the hell out of Bitterroot.” I spun around and headed to the loading area.

    Thankfully, Berta left me alone the rest of the morning. My hand was on fire by the time I’d finished loading the truck, but I didn’t care. I jumped down off the bed and went to tighten the tie-down on the back when Baxter came running up.

    “It’s gone.” His eyes and nose were puffy from crying. “I’ve looked everywhere and it’s gone.”

    Of course I knew he was talking about his skateboard. I didn’t stop working. “Stop crying. You’re a rich kid, Baxter. Daddy will just go out and buy you a new one.” I knew my words were short and harsh, but I couldn’t stop myself.

    I stopped working for a minute and turned around to look at him. He was staring at me open-mouthed, obviously hurt by my response. And I was being a jackass for taking it out on him. I walked over to him. “Look, bro, you were outgrowing that one anyhow. You need a faster board with slicker wheels.”

    Baxter’s shoulders relaxed when he realized I wasn’t mad at him. “It won’t be the same.”

    “I know. But maybe you can get one with a skull and crossbones this time. A really cool one.”

    He smiled. “Yeah, that’d be cool.”

    I patted him on the shoulder with my good hand. “I’ve got to get back to work. Baxter, can you do me a favor?”

    “Yeah, bro, you know it.”

    “Can you promise to stay close to home, close to your parents for awhile?”

    He looked confused. “You mean not go to the park or anything?”

    “Yeah, stay near home.”

    Some of his shock from earlier returned. “But why, Nick?”

    “Remember the other night at the park? I just don’t want them to bother you again. O.K?” I’d asked Baxter if he’d told his parents about that night, but he was so sure he’d be in trouble for staying at the park too late, he’d never told them about the gang being there. If he had, it really would have stirred the town into a frenzy.

    Baxter stared back at me through swollen red eyes and nodded weakly, apparently not too sure that staying home sounded fun. “I guess so.” He shuffled away looking kind of confused about our entire conversation.

    By the time I’d finished my shift, my hand was nearly numb with pain. It felt good punching that wall though. If only it had been Zedekiah’s face. This morning I’d moved one of my posters over the hole before my parents noticed it. I was beat and feeling like shit, and I knew home was the last place I wanted to go.  I jumped on my bike and rode toward the mountain not really sure of my destination. But just being up there, seemed like it would make me feel better. Even if I couldn’t talk to her . . . or touch her.

    I revved my bike loudly as I reached the dirt trail leading to the swamp. I guess I wanted the bastards to know I was there. As I reached the clearing where the swamp lay in all its disgusting glory, I gave the bike a couple more good revs. The smell of the bike’s exhaust mixed with the funky moldy smell of the swamp. “I’m here, Zedekiah. Why don’t you come face me, you coward?” Silence followed my voice. The steamy air hovering above the swamp was nearly suffocating. The blackened trees, seemingly dead for years, and yet still standing firm in the ground, circled the area with their gnarled branches. I got off my bike and picked up a stone. My attempt to skip the thing across the thick surface of the swamp failed and the stone disappeared quickly into the mire. A pinkish-blue gas bubble erupted on the oily surface. The glowing eruptions, known as corpse candles, happened often. And corpse candles could not have been a more appropriate name. But the dead people suspended below did not rise this afternoon. Maybe they were tired after their long night of throwing glue on the town.

    I rode my bike back to the road and hid it in some bushes before climbing the rest of the way on foot. I didn’t want Jessie to hear it. I stayed within the trees as I stood adjacent to the farm and hoped for a glimpse of her. Just one glimpse to get me through the rest of my pathetic weekend. It figured that I’d finally found something I really cared about and it had been yanked out from under me, and by my own relative.

    A soft giggle floated across the field to where I stood hidden. It was a giggle I would know anywhere. Jessie was playing tug of war with Jasper and a long stick. Sunlight glinted off the creamy copper streaks in her hair as she pulled the giant dog around and around. Except for a tiny hitch in her step, she moved smoothly. I’d grown completely in love with that little hitch. She successfully yanked the stick from the dog’s mouth and threw it across the yard. Jasper sauntered toward it. She laughed and the sound of it made me smile.

    Jessie watched her dog then twisted around and looked at something behind her. “I remember when he used to actually run after the stick,” she said.

    My eyes squinted to see who she’d spoken too. I hoped with all my heart it was her grandma. But it wasn’t. Standing in the shade of the tall pines lining the Sterling property was my dead ancestor. He’d won. He had her all to himself now and apparently she didn’t mind having him hang around. Just when I didn’t think I could feel any shittier, I sunk even lower.

 

 

Chapter 20

 

    Overnight, it seemed, Mother Nature had ushered out summer and invited in fall. The brisk air made my nose run as I headed down the mountain. Today I was thankful for my hooded cloak. Sunday had lasted an eternity. I’d picked up my nearly finished needlepoint of Jasper ten times only to put it right back down each time. Even Nana had told me I was fidgeting too much to stay in her kitchen. She’d shooed me out along with Jasper and Anna.

    Monday brought school and school brought Nick. It could not come soon enough. And now that it was here, something seemed off about it. I wasn’t sure why but by the time I’d laced up my boots, a flood of melancholy had washed over me and my enthusiasm for the day had vanished along with the warm weather.

    Mandy had not finished her flake of hay, so I decided to walk down the mountain rather than pull her from her breakfast. As I crossed the swamp’s trail, a sticky, unnatural breeze knocked the hood from my head.

    “Zedekiah, please, I don’t want to be late for school.” I pulled the hood up. “Besides, my ears are cold.” I felt a presence behind me and twisted around. “Zedekiah, I don’t--”

    A breath caught in my throat as I stared up at the two ghostly figures. I’d never seen them this close but I knew from descriptions it was Butcher and Axel.

    “Hello, little lady. Aren’t you a sight with your pretty school bag and lace-up boots,” Butcher said. As his words rumbled out they filled the air around him with a sour stench.

    Axel floated even closer, and I took a step back. “Like it’s a hundred years ago and I’m looking at beautiful lil’ Rebecca.”

    The way they both glared down at me sent a shudder through my body, but I was confident they would never do anything to anger Zedekiah. I was fairly certain I was safe. I decided the best thing to do was not linger. I turned and continued walking. Instantly they appeared in front of me. 

    A sound in the trees grabbed their attention. With all my heart I hoped Zedekiah would appear. Both apparitions seemed tense and nervous as they stared into the darkness of the trees. Their agitation made me nervous too.

    Butcher faced me with a hideous scowl. “Seems you’ve started a family feud with that pretty little face of yours, girlie.”

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and tried to push past them. Suddenly I landed hard on my bottom.

    “We’re talking to you, princess. Don’t ignore--” Without warning a thunderous roar rolled through the trees. Butcher and Axel vanished leaving only traces of their foul smelling moisture behind. I jumped up and scurried as fast as my legs could carry me down the mountain not wanting to meet up with any more otherworldly individuals.

    My nerves had settled by the time I reached my first class. The bell rang but Nick’s chair was still empty. I sunk down in my seat thinking this whole day was going south fast. Five minutes into the Mrs. Hoffman’s lecture on neatness in homework, the door flew open. Nick walked in. His face looked tired and his shoulders hung heavily.

    “Mr. Crush,” Mrs. Hoffman barked, “you’re late.”

    Nick stopped halfway down the aisle and glanced back at her. “Maybe the rest of you are just early.” The class laughed. He continued to his seat but did not spare even a glance my way.

    “Mr. Crush, I will not put up with that kind of attitude this early on a Monday.”

    He plopped onto his seat, slouched down, and put a foot up on the seat in front of him. He looked at the teacher. “Do you want me to come back later when you will put up with it?” Laughter again, but not from the teacher.

    Mrs. Hoffman marched to her desk, pulled out a pad of paper, and scribbled angrily on it. She ripped off the note and held it up. “Yes, I do want you to come back later. After you’ve had a nice chat with the principal.”

    It seemed more than obvious that Nick wanted to be kicked out of class. For a minute he looked down at the floor near my desk like he wanted to look at me but couldn’t. He grabbed his books clumsily with one hand, keeping the other in his pocket like he was hiding something. He tucked his things under his arm, grabbed the note and left. It felt as if my heart had solidified in my chest and my stomach felt sick. I spent the rest of class trying to convince myself that he’d had a bad morning and he hadn’t intentionally ignored me.

    I’d wandered around the rest of the morning in a sort of cloud wondering if I’d only just imagined Nick’s affection for me. I was, after all, not practiced in the ways of the world, and it was entirely possible that my mind had conjured up the entire friendship. By lunch time my confusion had turned to anger. If he had not cared for me, then he had used me badly for he left me with a completely false impression.

    My hands trembled instantly as I spotted him leaning against a locker talking to a girl. I willed my feet toward him. The girl had gone by the time I reached him. He looked down at me in a disaffected, cool way that made my chest tighten.

    It took all my courage to speak. “How was your weekend?” It was the only noncommittal question I could muster.

    “Just great.” He lowered his eyes and his long lashes curtained his dark blue eyes.

    I followed his gaze and noticed a wrap around his hand. “How did you hurt your hand?”

    He lifted his face now but barely looked at me. The only sign of emotion at all was the movement of his throat as he swallowed hard. “Hurt it at work.” He seemed uncomfortable by my presence.

    “I guess I’ll see you around, then,” I said quietly.

    He closed his eyes for a second and I thought he might speak. But he didn’t say a word. He just nodded. I walked away fighting back tears. As I turned a corner, Tina stepped directly in front of me. She was the last person I needed to see.

    “Aww, you actually thought Nick liked you? Poor little freak.” She laughed. I managed to escape her before tears streamed down my face. I hurried out of the building, down the steps and headed home, the only safe place in the world.

    “You’re crying.”

    I looked up through the haze of my tears. Zedekiah stood in front of me. I tried to sidle past him. “I don’t really want to talk about it, Zedekiah. It’s my own foolish fault.”

    “Was it Nick?” Rage edged his words and an unnatural darkness shadowed the road. “I’ll give him a visit.”

    “No! Leave him alone. And leave me alone. I just want to go back to my life before. No ghosts, no boys with their incredible blue-eyed gazes and charming words, and no school.” The tears came faster now. “Go back to your swamp, Zedekiah. I’m not your true love. I’m not anybody’s true love. I just want to be left alone.” I peered up at the eerily dark sky. “And stop all these darn theatrics.”

BOOK: Bitterroot Crossing
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