Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (10 page)

“Go play outside,” her mom, Jodi, said. “I’m packing sandwiches.” She turned to Brian: “Turn off the cartoons and get your bathing suit on. I’ve told you three times already!”

Shannon carried her backpack outside and dropped it on the driveway near the car. She was anxious to get moving but knew it could be a while so she decided to go climb the apple tree. It was her favorite hangout because it was too high for Brian to climb. This was her “thinking spot”—whenever she wanted alone time, she would climb up and sit in the crook of a branch, leaning with her back against the gnarled trunk. She often sat very still and watched the robins, as this was their favorite tree to make nests. Her dad taught her to stay away from the nests because mother birds sometimes abandoned their eggs if they felt danger was near. People can be dangerous, her dad said, especially to animals.

Shannon wobbled her hips and shimmied herself out to the middle of the branch. She locked her legs tight, clamping the branch, and let her body fall backward, swinging easily by her knees. She loved looking at the world upside down with her hair dangling. Suddenly, a hand reached up and yanked her hair, almost pulling her from the tree. “Ow!” she cried, quickly hoisting herself back up into the tree. She looked around and, not seeing anyone, hollered, “Brian, was that you?”

No one answered. She climbed to another branch a little bit higher and looked around her yard. No one was there. Just then she heard her mom calling, so she climbed down and peered around her house and into her neighbors’ yards. She ran out to the mailbox and looked up and down the street. She heard a dog barking in the distance and her neighbor’s sprinklers made a swishing sound as they watered the grass, but there wasn’t anyone there. Who pulled my hair? she wondered. Getting into the car she glanced at the colorful beach buckets and quickly forgot all about the tree incident.

It was a hot sunny day by the ocean. The water felt icy cold but Shannon didn’t care. Rebecca was fun to play with and a pretty creative kid—for an eight-year-old. She always brought cool stuff to the beach, like plastic ice cube trays to build sand castle walls and little pieces of old garden hoses to pour water into. Brian was occupied with Rebecca’s little brother, Tommy, who was around the same age. Their moms talked and talked as Shannon and Rebecca made up games, like who could ride the waves the farthest. They each had bright colored boards that were so perfect because they never had to share them—they were too big for little kids and too little for parents. Brian came running up to them all excited. “Quick, quick,” he shouted. “Those kids found something. Look over there,” he said, pointing to a crowd of kids bending over something.

Shannon and Rebecca ran to see what all the fuss was about. There were quite a few kids standing around and they had to elbow their way to the front. Some older kids had found a horseshoe crab. It was alive and they had rolled it over onto its armor-like covering and were poking its soft under-belly with a stick. They were laughing and one of the kids yanked it by its spikey tail and began to drag it along the sand. “Look, it’s running,” he laughed, as he dragged it along. Shannon bit her lip; she wanted to stop them but was afraid to say anything. She knew all about horseshoe crabs and they weren’t at all dangerous and they needed humans to leave them alone.

“Stop it!” she heard herself say. She hadn’t meant to blurt it out but she couldn’t just stand there. The crowd of kids became silent, their eyes wide. The older kids walked over to her. One of the boys was dangling the horseshoe crab by its tail and Shannon knew he would probably kill it.

“You gonna make us?” said the older girl who stood beside the boy who was swinging the poor thing by its tail.

“Put it back in the water and just leave it alone. You’re gonna kill it if you keep playing with it,” she said, feeling bolder as the other kids started yelling at the older kids.

“Put it back. We want to see the crab swim,” said a little boy.

“It’s not actually a crab and it may not exactly swim,” said Shannon. “It might just move along in the sand.”

“Don’t kill it,” whimpered a little girl.

“Listen crab-lover,” said the boy. “Go find your own horseshoe crab. This one’s ours.”

“Let it go, let it go,” cried the crowd of kids, jumping up and down.

“Ahh, get lost,” the older kids taunted, as they started to move away. They didn’t get very far. A lifeguard had heard the commotion.

The smaller kids began to shout to him, pointing at the older kids who were trying to slink away. The guard approached the kids and asked them to put the horseshoe crab back into the water. They were angry and one kid said, “It’s a free country and we can do what we like.”

“Where do you live?” asked the lifeguard.

“I live in Ohio, but I’m here on vacation,” said the angry girl.

The lifeguard nodded. “Why don’t you just put that sea creature down and come have a chat with me over by the lifeguard boat?” he said, carrying the crab to the water. “The rest of you, go play and please stay away from this crab and maybe he’ll live.”

The lifeguard was showing the older kids a book about sea life. Shannon walked back to her mom. She felt sad for the animal that had been so mistreated.

“Brian told us what you did,” her mom said. “I can’t believe you stood up to them, Shannon. Those kids are in their teens.”

Shannon felt confused as she watched the lifeguard talking to the kids and they all seemed to be smiling and laughing. “They didn’t even get into trouble. Look, they’re just laughing,” she said. The older children were walking toward the ocean as the lifeguard pointed.

Jodi looked up and watched the group of kids as they bent to look at something in the water. “He didn’t yell at them, Shannon, because he’s teaching them. They don’t live around here and they probably don’t know about sea life. It’s nice to see that he’s taking the time to teach instead of punish.”

They saw the kids thanking the lifeguard and shaking hands. Just then Jodi pulled Shannon in for a long hug. The embarrassed girl looked around to see if anyone was watching! Parents were always doin’ stuff like this, she thought, looking down at her mom, who seemed very serious. They suddenly grab you and hug you for no reason. She patted her mom on the head, sending her a silent signal—okay, enough; there are kids watching.

It was getting late and Brian was asleep in his car seat when they drove home. Jodi was sitting in a long line of traffic while a commercial about saltwater taffy played on the radio. Sticky ice cream wrappers from their Custard Castle visit were crumpled in Shannon’s hand.

The young girl was lost in her thoughts and something was troubling her. A scene was playing over and over again of the moment she had blurted out, “Stop!” She hadn’t planned on any of it and wasn’t sure what those kids would have done if the lifeguard hadn’t stepped in. Animals aren’t toys, she thought, as she remembered how her dad had warned her to stay away from Kelsie while he was eating. Her big loveable lab allowed babies to climb all over him, but would growl if anyone got too close to his bone.

Shannon thought of the look on that mean girl’s face when she confronted her and how she wanted to just yell at them and run away. Her mom and the other kids thought she was brave, but Shannon still felt a bit scared about what had happened. It was almost dinnertime and her dad would be home soon. She wasn’t sure what she would say when he asked her about the beach. They pulled into their driveway. Shannon looked out the window and saw a sickening sight—some kid was sitting in her thinking spot! The girl looked much older than Shannon. When the car pulled to a stop, the stranger jumped out of the apple tree and dashed away.

Chapter 20

Sam knew she’d have to deal with some agitated guests when she hung up the posters and stacks of BLM adoption information Devon Spencer had given her. The groups of protestors had rented every room at the B&B and were getting their signs and banners ready for the day of the round-up. They were keeping Sam and her staff very busy. Brenda and Carrie would have to fend for themselves, as she didn’t have time to show them around.

She dragged a broom under a table and thought of Max. He would always pounce at the chance to gobble up crumbs that her guests left after breakfast. Where could he be? Had he ever disappeared before? Maybe he had, but she couldn’t really remember. She thought it odd that he would vanish before meeting the collie. Max was a funny cat who was always staring off into space. It’s like he was listening to someone or something or maybe just daydreaming.

Crash! All thoughts of the cat were interrupted as she heard something fall and break.

Sam carried the broom and hurried down the hall. A door to one of the guestrooms stood wide open. A woman was standing on the bed as her husband, wielding a rolled-up magazine weapon, was darting back and forth.

“Get it, get it!” the woman shrieked. The man’s face was red as he ran to and fro chasing something that was obviously too quick for his swatting magazine-sword. Sam stepped into the room and saw the lamp that was lying in pieces on the rug.

“Can I help you?” she asked, looking about the room trying to see what they were trying to catch.

“There, over there!” the woman yelled to her husband, who was now on all fours crawling under a chair. Slap! Down came the rolled-up newspaper, smacking the floor, and away ran a tiny lizard that was making its escape under a crack. The woman looked disappointed as she climbed down off the bed. The man rolled over and sat huffing and puffing on the floor.

“Good thing you have a broom,” said the woman, “You can clean up this glass so we don’t cut ourselves.”

“Yes,” nodded the man. “We don’t want anyone to get hurt,” he mumbled, pushing his way into the bathroom. Whomp! went the door behind him.

“Aren’t you both members of Save Our Mustangs?” asked Sam.

“I’m the vice president,” the woman huffed as she smoothed out her skirt.

“Let me get this straight,” said Sam in disbelief. “You want to kill a tiny lizard that is harmless and native to this land, but you are up in arms about the capturing of wild horses and burros?”

“Humph. That’s completely different,” said the woman. “I cannot stand reptiles and neither can my husband. They’re utterly disgusting!”

Sam smiled and explained to the woman that she would add the broken lamp to their bill and went off to find a dustpan.

Later as Sam was doing paperwork the cook popped his head into her office. “Got a minute?” he asked.

“Sure, grab a seat, Lance,” she replied.

“I need to head into town and buy more supplies. We don’t have enough to last the week.”

Sam held up a finger as she flipped through her papers. “Look, I have our list right here and we double-checked this before our last order, knowing exactly how many people would be here this week. How could we possibly be out of supplies so soon?” asked Sam.

“These folks are eating us outta house and home, Sam. I make plenty of food and set it out buffet style and all they want is more bacon, ham, and steak. They pretty much leave the fruit and yogurt alone—it’s hardly touched,” Lance explained.

They both sat silently for a few minutes and then Sam started to giggle. She threw her head back and burst into laughter. Lance grinned. Her laughter was so contagious that soon they were both howling in hysterics. They were holding their sides and tears were flowing down their cheeks. Kelly and the other staff members came into the office. “What’s so funny?” she asked, wanting in on the joke.

“Hang on, hang on,” Sam said, trying to catch her breath. “Lance has to go into town to get more supplies,” said Sam snickering.

“So?” asked Kelly. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that.”

“Not a lot of humor in killing animals,” said Sam as she dried her eyes. “Our guests have huge hearts and they work hard to protect the wild horses and burros. They hang posters and attend rallies and they do their darndest to give the animals a voice.”

“Yeah…and?” said Kelly, frowning.

“And here they gather at our little inn making plans about educating people about the harm coming to the wild horses and burros and when you give them a choice of food before their meeting, they choose meat…from dead cows and pigs!”

The staff stood in silence, looking at her.

“The vegetarian thing?” asked Lance. “That again? That’s not so funny. I like bacon, too.” All of the staff nodded their heads and agreed that bacon, ham, and steak was everyone’s favorite choice at breakfast as well. Sam was just one of those picky vegetarian types that made a stink about hunting and eating animals.

The crew started back to work, wishing it had been something really funny. They were too busy to be disturbed with another anti-bacon discussion.

“No, no, no,” said Sam. “Don’t you even see the irony in this?”

“Not really,” said Lance. “So I guess I’ll be moving along into town now. I really need those supplies,” he said as he made his way toward the door. He stopped, smiled, and called over his shoulder, “Oh, and I’ll be sure to pick up some carrots and peas just for you.” Now it was the staff’s turn to burst into laughter. They slapped each other’s backs and flipped off the light switch, forgetting about Sam sitting in the dark alone with her thoughts.

Chapter 21

Carrie sat hunched in a chair gazing out at the mountains. The patio seemed the perfect place to get away from everyone. She hadn’t spoken a word since Milla and her dad had left. Flannel was happily sleeping at her feet. Her mom, pushing open the back door, seemed agitated as she said, “Carrie, you haven’t even unpacked or put anything away yet.”