Fire Girl Part 1 (9 page)

Uncle Bill looked between us and frowned.
“None of that.”

I looked away. More guilt.

“Good Heavens all this billaboo over
nothing.” Grandpa still didn’t open his eyes. “We don’t control
anything, if I was meant to go I’d be gone by now. I’m fine.”

Grandma wiped under her eyes and sucked in a
breath. “It’s not billaboo. We’ll all pitch in to get you
better.”

Guilt seeped into the part of my soul that
didn’t want to face the fact that I’d wanted to leave these people
only minutes before.

A buzz went through my jean pocket.

Grandma looked down. “What is that?”

I waved my hand through the air. “It’s my
phone, don’t worry about it.”

A doctor in a white jacket with a thick beard
stepped in. He hummed in a deep baritone. I recognized the
tune—
The Battle Hymn of the Republic
.

I released Grandma’s hand. I hated doctors. I
hated anything at any hospital. And I especially hated it when it
came with a bushy beard. A flashing memory of the coroner from
Garden City went through my mind. His beard hadn’t been shaggy. No,
it had been clipped perfectly.

A deep frown held against the doctor’s face.
He tapped his clipboard on the metal bar at the bottom of Grandpa’s
bed. “You’re lucky, Frank.” His voice reprimanded.

Grandpa cleared his throat and started into a
coughing fit.

Grandma located a white cup of water on the
bedside table. She leaned over and helped Grandpa take a sip.

“You know we’ve talked about your diet a time
or two in the past couple of years.”

Grandma fluttered. “Doctor Hunt, I tell him
not to eat those jelly donuts, but I’ll quit buying them. It’s my
fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” Grandpa barked
out.
Doctor Hunt looked between them and hesitated.

“Is he going to be okay?” Uncle Bill moved
next to him.

The doctor grunted at me. “I presume you’re
the one that I’ve heard about.”

Grandma wrapped her arm around me
protectively. “Yes, this is our granddaughter, Maddie, we’ve told
you about.”

Doctor Hunt lifted an eyebrow. An eyebrow
that clearly accused me of being the extra stress that caused this
heart attack.

Grandpa cleared his throat. “When can I get
back to my house, Doc?”

The doctor pushed back on the chair and the
metal wheels screeched out a whiny noise. “You’re lucky. Very
lucky. You had a mild heart attack, but your vitals look
normal.”

Grandma lay her hand over his blanketed legs.
“What do we need to do for him?”

“He stays on his medication. He—” the doctor
paused, “he takes it easy for about six weeks.” He shook his finger
at Grandpa. “I mean it, Frank, you can’t be haulin’ hay and running
the tractor and lifting things. I don’t even want you weeding or
burning or mucking out stalls. You have to take it
easy
.
Give the ticker a rest. Short walks, healthy diet, plenty of those
breathing exercises we’ve talked about to manage stress.” The
doctor shoved his glasses back onto his face and nodded. “Manage
stress.” He gave me a reproving look. His statement came out in a
purposeful, patronizing tone.

Grandpa’s voice came out rough. “You’re
tellin’ me you don’t want me to get my crops in? That’s too
bad.”

Uncle Bill leaned back into his heels. “It’s
not a problem, Dad. I’ll do it.”

Grandpa stared at the ceiling. “Ya can’t do
everything, Bill. You have your own fields and animals to worry
about.”

My phone buzzed again.

“Would you deal with that?” Grandpa
commanded.

Embarrassed, I turned away from them and
tapped the screen on the phone. A text from Carrie.

Uncle Bill’s voice turned firm. “Dad, we can
handle this. We’ll hire help if we have to.”

“The bank note is due at the end of the
season, Bill. There’s no money for help.” Grandpa shook his
head.

A cold chill washed over me.
Got the money—for real. When can we meet?

“I can loan you some money, but you’ll need
to hire some help.” Uncle Bill’s voice went even softer.

I pushed the phone back into my pocket and
turned back.

“No one’s giving me money!” Grandpa
snapped.

“Dad.” Uncle Bill protested.

“I’ll take over.” Chance’s face looked
steady, determined.

With a start of realization I understood what
he meant. He would quit the football team.

A sinking feeling shot into my heart, like in
a dream where you do something really, really bad, and you try to
wake yourself up, but you can’t. Chance
couldn’t
quit.

All at once Grandpa, Grandma, and Uncle Bill
protested.

The look on Chance’s face told me this was
how it would be. “It’s not like I’m going pro or anything. You
need
me. And I can do it.”

Uncle Bill shook his head vehemently. “That’s
not
gonna happen, Chance.”

Grandma pinched her lips into a straight
line. “If you don’t think your Grandma knows how to operate a
tractor, you’re wrong. I’ve been doing farm work since before you
were a twinkle in your Daddy’s eye. We’ll be fine.” The bottom of
her lip trembled, but her voice sounded resolute.

I hated the way my eyes burned with emotion.
Grandma would do it, too. She would run herself ragged doing it all
to take the pressure off Grandpa.

Grandpa grumbled from the hospital bed. “I’m
fine! Nobody ain’t quittin’ nothing!”

“I’ll do it.”

Chapter 8 Decision

They all turned to me.

I abruptly wanted to take it back. I couldn’t
do that. I didn’t even know how to do it.

Doctor Hunt’s face cracked into a wide smile.
He stood. “Well, guess that little problem worked itself out.”

Chance’s eyes connected with mine. Then, in
one super-fast motion, he rushed forward and lifted me into the
air.

Grandma smiled. “Maddie.”

The spot in my chest that I’d guarded with a
perfectly mortared wall begged for reinforcement.

Chance crushed me even harder for a second,
and then lowered me down in one swift drop. He blinked back the
glistening emotion in his eyes. “I knew we could always count on
ya, Madds.”

Dr. Hunt moved for the door. “I’ll check on
ya in the morning, Frank. If all is well, you can go on home.”

Grandma’s arms surrounded me and the smell of
her hair spray smothered any protests. “Thank you.”

Grandpa’s rickety voice sounded into the air.
“Hold up.”

I stared at his pale, sagging cheeks.

His lips puckered like he’d tasted something
sour. “I don’t know if she can do it.”

Chance put an arm around my shoulders
resolutely. “Have you forgotten what they say?”

Grandpa lifted an un-amused eyebrow.

Chance didn’t give him time to reply. “When a
lemonade stand stares you in the face, don’t shut it down.”

Uncle Bill laughed.

Grandpa frowned.

“He’s got a point, Dad.”

Grandpa took a deep breath. “You’re in for
the long haul, Madds.”

I stared into his wrinkled, tired eyes, and
wondered if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

***

“The rows aren’t that long, but you do have
to pay attention to what you’re doing. And, believe me, Grandpa is
a stickler about making sure things are done the right way.” Chance
paused and glanced over at me. He’d been prattling on and on about
the ins and outs of farm work the entire way to school.

I nodded absently. I hadn’t responded to
Carrie’s initial text last night, and she’d sent five more
demanding that I call her.

“Madds, are you listening to me?” Chance
turned into the front parking lot of the high school.

I turned my full attention to him. “Yes.”

He turned off the truck and gave me the same
goofy, happy look he’d been giving me since I said I’d do the farm
work. “Thanks, Madds. I—” Moisture filled his eyes and he took a
breath. “I don’t know what possessed you to do it. After reading
that ridiculous letter of yours, I figured you’d be as good as
gone.”

I shrugged. “You didn’t tell anyone about
that, did you?”

“No.” His face turned sad. “Were you really
going to leave? Not even say goodbye to me?”

My chest tightened. I didn’t want to have
this discussion. “I—” I couldn’t lie to Chance.

Chance pondered for a few moments. “I know
things have been different since your parents died.”

Died. The word sounded blunt, plain,
final.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it.
You’ve made that pretty clear this past year. But—leaving?”

“Just don’t.”

The touch of his hand on my shoulder made me
jerk back.

“Madds, let me be here for you. I know I’m
not the most sensitive guy and I don’t know how to say anything
right, but . . .”

I shrugged out of his touch. “Stop, okay.
Just—I’m here. I’m
making a difference
.”

Chance sighed. “I’m glad you are here, but
are you staying? Like for good?”

I didn’t answer his question. I knew he
wouldn’t like the answer.

Chance let out a rattled breath. “Madds?”

I stopped him with a slug to the shoulder.
“I’ll make sure the farm stuff gets done, okay?”

Chance pulled the door lever and kicked it
open with his foot. “Well, you know what they say.”

I didn’t move. “What do they say?”

“You can take the girl away from the farm,
but you can’t take the farm out of the girl.”

“I’m
not
a farm girl.”

He tilted his head to the side and a pitiful
smile touched his lips. “Sure ya are, it’s in your blood.” He
looked over his shoulder. “Here comes your escort.” He jumped
down.

I quickly punched in a reply to Carrie.
911—give me six weeks.

Carrie straight away texted back.
What? Jimmy won’t like this.

A knock at the window made me jump.

Officer Justice stood there.

My phone buzzed, again.

“I don’t have all day, Ms. Haven.” Officer
Justice opened the truck door and held it.

I glanced down.
They’ve been
asking more questions.

***

I moved through the lunch line without
incident, careful to watch for Meaty.

“You’re such a drama queen, aren’t you?”
Trina popped up beside me. She chomped into an apple as if she were
on an episode of Man vs. food.

I took my change from Howie and tried to
hurry away from the lunch line. I hadn’t seen Meaty yet and didn’t
want to.

I surveyed the tables. My eyes fell on
Chance. He pointed to an empty seat across from him.

Bonnie sat propped up next to him on the
table. She dropped a grape into Chance’s mouth and turned on a
half-way fakety fake smile. He’d obviously told her that I’d
volunteered to help Grandpa.

His football friends sat around him roaring
in laughter at something and started punching each other.

Trina saddled up next to me. “Yeah, it’s us
or them.”

“There’s no we—we’re not friends.”

Her purple lips frowned. “I really
was
worried about your Grandpa.”

It took me by surprise that she might truly
care. “Fine. Find us a place to sit.”

Trina turned into a super speed robot.

I pushed to keep up with her.

She stopped in front of Grace’s table.

Grace shook her head no.

Trina shrugged and pointed to another table.
“Come on.”

I followed Trina and plunked my tray down.
“What’s wrong with her?”

“Lockhart, go deep!”

I wrenched back.

My heart went on crack speed.

Zac stood next to our table. He cocked back
the football and launched it perfectly into the air.

Chance’s table erupted into shouts as Chance
held the football into the air and pointed back at Zac in a boy
victory sort of way. “Saturday! Ravens are going
down!
”

Zac let out a redneck, high pitched yell and
pointed back at Chance.

The whole cafeteria erupted into applause and
whoops and howls.

I rocked back, confused.

“And they think
we’re
the weird ones.”
Trina chomped another bite of apple.

Zac abruptly looked down. The edge of his lip
curled up. He winked. “What? Can’t find any matches today?”

Immense distaste burned in the pit of my gut.
I wanted to clock him.

He dashed away.

Trina scowled and her eyes followed Zac. “Is
that his pet name for you?”

I tried to contain myself. “Shut it.”

“Touchy.” She picked up my fork and stabbed
out a huge chunk of my chocolate cake. “You really shouldn’t be so
easy to read.”

“
You
really should wipe your
face.”

Trina took one of my napkins. “You my mother
now?”

I ripped my napkin out of her hand. “You need
one.”

She smiled back at me and exposed her
chocolate teeth. “Too bad she’s dead.”

I paused. “What?”

Trina smacked her lips back together, all the
humor gone from her face. “You want to hear my issues, right?”

I didn’t answer.

Trina took a drink of my water. She scoffed.
“What’s there to tell? Mom got sick, then went to a wheelchair,
then . . .” She pulled her head to the side and cracked her neck.
“Then I started dressing like this and made some friends my dad
didn’t like. Last year my dad came home with a moving truck and
told me to pack up cause he was taking me someplace where I
wouldn’t hang out with freaks.” She stared at the table. “And it
worked.” She shrugged and turned back to me. “He leaves all week
for work and I sit in the house all by myself.”

I didn’t know if she could be playing me.

Grace wheeled past us, her tray perfectly
balanced on her lap. One of her hands looked crimped into an
unnatural position.

I cleared my throat and glanced back at
Trina. “What’s wrong with her?”