The Cow-Pie Chronicles (14 page)

Dana held the gift up by one end. Puzzled, she asked her mom, “What is it?”

“It's a baton, like the band leaders and baton twirlers use,” Mom answered.

Dana frowned until she eyed an empty box. She tightened her grip on the baton and
wham!
—she destroyed the box in a single,
vicious
blow. Dana slowly raised the baton-turned-club again, looked sideways at Tim, and smiled a devilish smile.

“Mom! Really! A weapon?” Tim said, nearly in tears. Not up for the argument she knew would be coming, Mom stood up and walked out, mumbling to herself.

Realizing he was left to fend for himself, Tim frantically searched for the biggest present under the tree with his name on it. He hoped he would get a shield or maybe a suit of armor, anything to protect himself from his sister.

Scared but trying to remain calm, Tim found a present that was about three feet long and really heavy.
I hope it's a toy metal sword!
Tim said to himself.
Please, please, PLEASE!

Tim turned away so Dana couldn't see him opening his big present. But he could feel her icy stare on his back as she confidently held her baton club, ready for war.

Slowly peeling off the wrapping paper, Tim realized that the gift was probably the fishing pole set he had asked for.
Crud! A fishing pole won't protect me!
But when he saw the letters on the brightly colored box underneath the paper, Tim's fears instantly evaporated and he quickly ripped away the remaining paper. He was so happy that he gave the box a hug—his wish had come true. It wasn't a toy metal sword, but something even better!

Still with his back to Dana, Tim stood up and slowly turned around until his little sister got a full view of Tim's gift—a
Daisy 50-shot BB gun
! Dana screamed loud enough to break the windows. She dropped her baton and ran to her room, slamming the door shut.

Mrs. Slinger came back into the living room to see what the commotion was all about. There stood her son, holding his new gun. “Thanks, Mom! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Tim said.

Without saying a word, Mrs. Slinger went to Dana's room. She spoke to her through the door. “You don't have to worry, Dana. He's not allowed to shoot it in the house.”

“I'm not coming out until you take it away,” Dana said.

“Do you want me to take your baton away, too?” Mom asked.

“I don't care!”

Dad walked in from the morning milking to find Tim next to the Christmas tree beaming over his new BB gun and Dana locked in her bedroom. “What's going on?” Dad asked.

“Dana's really afraid of my new BB gun,” Tim said, smiling.

Dana's shrill voice came right through her closed door; “No, I'm not! I'm afraid of
you
!”

“Tim, take the BB gun out in the barn and put it in the storage room with my shotgun. You can't use it inside the house,” Dad said.

“But what about her baton club?” Tim asked.

“Her what?” Dad asked.

Mom, who had returned to the living room, picked up Dana's present. “This,” she said, handing the baton to her husband.

Mr. Slinger studied it for a moment then shook his head. “You're worried about that thing, Tim? Give me a break. Now do as I said and take the BB gun out to the barn so we can enjoy our last Christmas here without you two fighting.”

“Fine,” Tim said, wishing his dad had seen Dana beat the snot out of the empty box with her innocent baton. Then he would understand that “thing” was a weapon, too.

Tim walked to the back door, put on his coat over his pajamas, slipped into his boots and stomped out to the barn in foot-deep snow.

Back to Table of Contents

Chapter 17

When the winter weather cooperated, Tim spent the rest of the holiday break outside, practicing his hunting skills. With his new BB gun in hand, Tim and Skipper roamed the Slinger's land, looking for random, non-living things to shoot, like old tin cans.

Dana had little time to play with her brother, as she was busy helping Mom get ready for the birth of her new little brother or sister. It didn't matter much to Tim. The empty barn offered little protection from the winter weather for them to play in together anyway. There wasn't enough hay left in the lofts to act as insulation and keep the cold out. He couldn't even play on the rope swing—a leak in the barn's roof had gotten the rope wet and it had frozen stiff as a board.

The baby was born on Valentine's Day, right on schedule. It was a boy and he was named “Matt.” Dana's prediction that Tim would be charged with baby duty was exactly the opposite of what actually happened. Dana was so fascinated by Matt that she eagerly helped her mom take care of him.

Tim's sense of loss over the family farm became stronger as winter left and spring arrived. Gone was the annual mad scramble to get the farm machines in shape to prepare the fields for planting. And gone was the repair to buildings damaged by harsh winter storms. Instead of row after row of perfectly spaced little green sprouts of baby corn, wheat and oat plants filling dark brown fields, thousands of randomly scattered weeds had popped up all over. Even the dirt lane leading to the fields was covered with weeds.

Spring passed quickly and suddenly, it was the final day of school. As Tim and Dana stepped off the school bus for the very, very last time in their lives, they were more than lost. They were devastated.

“What're we going to do now?” Dana asked her older brother as they got off the bus.

“What'd you mean?” Tim asked.

“Now that school's done and there's no work to do—what are we going to do?”

“I'm not sure,” Tim said. Trying to be positive, he thought of something fun. “I was thinking about building a hunting blind in the woods. That'll be great.”

“Why? We won't be here that long, will we?” Dana asked.

“Why would anyone want to buy this place now?” Tim asked. “Look at it.” He pointed at the family's lifeless barn, with holes in the side of it from missing boards caused by winter storms, and the barnyard, empty except for many weeds.

“I know. I don't even want to live here anymore, with it like this,” Dana said.

They went inside the house and found Mom in the kitchen, feeding Matt.

“I've got some good news,” she said.

“We're going to start farming again?” Tim asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

“No. We sold the farm and bought a house in town,” Mom said.

“That's good news?!” Tim asked.

Dana ignored her brother's comment. “When?” she asked.

“In about two weeks. I put some boxes in your rooms so you can start packing.”

Stunned, Tim and Dana walked to their rooms without saying a word.

* * *

On the morning of moving day, the entire family sat quietly at the breakfast table, eating pastries and drinking milk.

“I'll never get used to this store-bought milk,” Tim said.

“You'll forget all about this place after a few months in town,” Dad said.

“I don't think so,” Tim said.

When they finished eating, Mom rinsed off the dishes and placed them into a box.

“Time to go,” Dad said.

“I'll get Skipper,” Tim said.

When Tim stepped out the front door in search of the dog, he found Skipper lying in the corner of the porch with his back to him. Normally, Skipper would happily greet whoever opened the door, hoping to be let into the house. Today, the dog didn't budge. It was then that Tim knew Skipper wouldn't be moving with the family. Skipper had died.

Tim stared at his lifeless pet and a tear ran down his cheek. He wiped it off, took a deep breath and went back inside. He quietly told Dad the news, making sure Dana couldn't hear him.

“I'm sorry, Tim. Let's get the family to town and then I'll come back and take care of Skipper,” Dad said.

Tim nodded. He helped load up the car and as the family drove away, Tim looked back and saw Skipper on the porch. Deep down inside, Tim felt as if a part of him had died, too, having to leave the only home and life he had ever known.

* * *

When Mr. Slinger pulled into the driveway of their new home, Dana and Tim plastered their faces against the car windows to get a better look. Their “new house” wasn't a newly built house, but the white-frame building was a lot newer than the stack of unpainted boards they had been living in on the farm.

Tim and Dana jumped out of the car the instant it stopped and raced to be the first to get inside. Tim easily beat Dana to the front door. He grabbed the door handle and gave it a yank. But nothing happened. “Hey! It won't open!” he said.

Dana shoved Tim aside. “Let me try.” She, too, struggled with the handle. “The door's broken,” Dana said to her mother, who was holding baby Matt on one hip.

“It's not broken. It's locked,” Mom said. She took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

“Locked? Why?” Tim asked. He couldn't remember if the farmhouse even had a lock on the door. If it did, they had never used it.

“So people we don't know can't go inside when we're gone,” Mom said.

Dana and Tim gave each other the same puzzled looks.
Why would strangers want to go in our house when we're not home?
Tim wondered.

Mom unlocked the door. “What're you waiting for?” she asked, holding the door wide open. “Either go in or get out of the way!”

Dana pushed Tim through the door and together they explored their new home. The house had many more rooms than their farm house had. There was a front room, a living room, a den, a dining room and a kitchen. And they hadn't even found the bedrooms yet.

“Where's my room?” Tim asked.

“Upstairs on the right. Dana's is on the left,” Mom said.

They both ran up the stairs, shoving each other side to side as they went. Dana ran into her room and stood right in the middle of it. Tim glanced through the door at his sister's room for a moment—it looked pretty small.

Oh, no! My room has to be bigger than hers!
Tim worried. He slowly walked down the hall a few steps, found the door to his new room and went inside. The room was so huge! It had three windows and two doors! It was time to brag! “My room's bigger!” he yelled to his sister.

Dana came running through Tim's door an instant later. She stopped after two steps, staring at the huge space now under Tim's control. His bed was at the far end under one of the windows. His dresser was against a wall between the other two windows. And in the other end of the room, near the second door, was Matt's crib!

“Oh, what's that, Tim?” Dana asked in her devilish tone.

Tim stared at the piece of furniture, absolutely confused. Then his heart sank to his stomach. “Mom, what's Matt's crib doing in my room?!” Tim yelled.

“You have to share,” Mom called back from downstairs.

The biggest smile Tim had ever seen spread across Dana's face. “I'm going back to my very
own
room,” she said as she triumphantly walked out.