Emory’s Gift (12 page)

Eventually the Shelburtons and I wound up feeling bored and then we felt guilty because we were supposed to be keeping my dad company. When he finally suggested to the Shelburtons that they should take me and head on out you could practically hear our relief. I shook hands with my dad and followed Mrs. Shelbuton out to her car.

The Shelburtons’ house was sort of the opposite of ours. We lived high on a hill with a commanding view of the valley and could see distant mountains on the horizon. The Shelburtons lived right along the river, lushly surrounded by trees, the hills crowding around them. Their driveway had its own bridge over the stream, even. Where our house was two stories and felt even taller because of the way it was built into the slope, their home sprawled out just one story high, its shape following the bend in the stream in the backyard.

There was a boat on a trailer next to their garage for weekend trips to Priest Lake. We didn’t have a boat. It had sort of gone the way of my horse. Another promise broken when my mom got sick.

Mr. Shelburton said he’d go get the kids and drove off. The air in the home was filled with a warm, sweet cinnamon fragrance that turned out to be homemade snickerdoodles. Even though it was before dinner I was allowed to eat several on account of what had happened to my dad. Then Mrs. Shelburton showed me a bedroom, one of what looked like four or five, and had me put my stuff in there. She set out towels and a washcloth, as if she thought I might be anxious to wash my face.

While she was doing all this, I felt a rising sense of alarm. How long did they think I was going to be staying here? I had to get back to Emory; I couldn’t just leave him in the pole barn. What do you say, though, to a woman who is being so kind, so motherly?
No thank you, I have a bear to take care of
?

I heard car doors slamming and the sound of running feet heading my way. “Mom!” A boy of maybe eight barreled into the room and stopped, staring at me. This, I figured, was probably Craig.

Mrs. Shelburton introduced us. “I’ve got a new mitt. We could play ball,” Craig said. I nodded—it would beat throwing G.I. Joes at each other.

“And this is Beth,” Mrs. Shelburton said.

My mouth dropped open in shock.

chapter

THIRTEEN

A DARK-HAIRED girl was standing silently in the doorway, watching me with clear green eyes. Her features were petite: everything about her was small, her lips, her nose, her ears, even. She stood half a head shorter than I.

What stunned me was how perfectly beautiful she was. I hadn’t really ever seen a girl with such an astoundingly pretty face.

I put her in fifth grade, which made me, an eighth grader, something like an adult in comparison. It gave me the confidence to say “hi” to her without stuttering—if she’d been my age, my brain would have been flooded with distress signals and I probably wouldn’t have been able to squeak out a word.

“Hello, Charlie,” she said. “What sort of music do you listen to?”

I opened my mouth at the unexpected question, then closed it. Music hadn’t been much of a feature at my house the past couple of years. I couldn’t think of a single artist who was currently popular.

“We were going to play ball,” Craig objected.

I could see right away that my relationship to Craig would consist mostly of ignoring him. Beth raised her eyebrows, waiting for my answer.

“Beatles,” I finally said, mentally pulling an album cover out of my dad’s collection.

Beth’s green eyes flared brightly. “
Yes
,” she said. “I can’t stand Wings, though. Come on.”

She vanished. Craig pouted at me as I hastened to follow.

Beth led me down the hall to a room with a fireplace and a couple of couches. She went to a shelf and began pulling out records. “White Album or
Abbey Road
?”

“
Abbey Road,
” I replied, ready to say,
No, I meant White Album!
if she frowned.

Instead she smiled at me. Her teeth were absolutely perfect, white and straight in her mouth. “
Yes
. Also I love
Sergeant Pepper’s.
You do, too, if you love
Abbey Road.
”

She put the album on, carefully lowering the needle and then sitting on a couch. She indicated with her hand that I should sit on the same couch, so I did.

I was doing a mental calculation. Let’s say she was ten years old. The age gap was less for us than for Kay and me, which had been my most serious romantic relationship to date. In three years Beth would be the age I was now and I’d have a driver’s license and would therefore completely overwhelm any competition from boys in her grade.

“You never say hi to me. Didn’t you know our dads were partners?”

“I’m … now what?”

She brought her feet up underneath her. Her pants were the plaid kind that were newly popular, wide up and down the length of her thin legs. “You didn’t know I was Rod Shelburton’s daughter?”

“No.”

“Okay. I suppose I forgive you, then, though you completely ignore me even when I’m looking right at you. Is your dad going to be okay?”

“I guess he has a concussion. But when do I ignore…?”

“In the hall.”

“The hall,” I said stupidly.

Beth gave me a considering look. “You really don’t remember seeing me before, do you.”

“So you go to Benny H.?” I responded, stupefied. Our junior high was formally Benjamin Harrison Junior High School, named after the President who signed the law giving Idaho its statehood. Everyone called it Benny H. and felt cool doing so. It seemed impossible, though, that this little girl was a student there.

“Do you
think
I go to Benny H.?” Her eyes were laughing at me. “How old do you think I am?”

I supposed that this was what it was like to be drowning with nobody there from Junior Lifesaving to pull me out of the pool. I had no idea how I was supposed to answer this question and felt ridiculous and mocked.

She decided to let me off the hook. “I’m a sevie.” She gave me another look at her pretty smile. “It’s horrible. It’s
ludicrous.
I feel like a little kid. The ninth graders are huge. You’re going to say hi to me in the hallway from now on though, right?”

I nodded.

“See, that’s how I’ll survive. I’ll feel like everyone hates me and then I’ll say, ‘Why, there’s that Charlie Hall and he’s saying hi to me, a big eighth grader.’” She slid off the couch. “Come on, Charlie; it’s such a beautiful night out there and we’re sitting inside. We can
always
listen to music.”

Was that true?
Always?
I could always just show up at the Shelburtons’ house and sit in a room with Beth and listen to Beatle albums?

Beth led me to the river, energetically chatting about gymnastics, and I followed passively.

I think I managed to hold up my end of the conversation, though in retrospect most of what I had to say was communicated in one-word sentences. I said “yeah” a lot; I remember that. “Do you like gymnastics?” “Yeah.” “Does your dad have a CB radio?” “Yeah.” “Do you like living in Selkirk River?” “Yeah.”

Especially now
.

When my mom was in the hospital it seemed like I never thought about anything else. I had trouble paying attention in class and usually only snapped back to reality when I realized everyone in the room was waiting for me to answer a question I hadn’t heard. Now, though, my dad was the furthest thing from my mind. I wasn’t even thinking about Emory, trapped in our barn back home. My entire focus was on the girl walking next to me.

Beth was dainty and childlike on the outside and womanly and self-assured on the inside. She reminded me a little of Kay, whom I had been madly in love with when the day started but who now seemed to be fading a little in priority.

At dinner I tried not to stare at Beth and when I failed I caught Mrs. Shelburton grinning at Mr. Shelburton and Mr. Shelburton looking cluelessly back at her, trying to figure out what she was communicating. Craig prattled on about one of the
Planet of the Apes
movies, which I gathered he felt represented the most significant accomplishment in cinematic history, and I completely ignored him. Beth shot me an occasional look of amusement over something and I did my best to look clever in return. For dessert Mrs. Shelburton produced a raspberry pie, still warm from the oven. I took my first bite and couldn’t help moaning a little—my dad’s pies were rung up whole at the cash register by Yvonne and then kept frozen until he stuck them in the oven. They always smelled great but were usually dark on the outside and mushy on the inside. Mrs. Shelburton’s pie, on the other hand, felt as if it were handmade by the gods. The Shelburton family laughed at my reaction.

After dinner I helped Beth with the dishes. Several times I accidentally bumped into her. She came away from these soft impacts with a small grin on her face. I grinned back so broadly my cheek muscles quivered with fatigue. Mrs. Shelburton took Mr. Shelburton aside and whispered something to him and as she did his eyes narrowed at me, making me feel guilty.

It was Friday, so we stayed up and watched TV. It became evident why Craig was so excited about monkey-based entertainment—a new show called
Planet of the Apes
was on, though from the quality of the program it looked like the apes were not only the stars but also the writers. Mr. Shelburton sat in his chair with a newspaper that he snapped loudly in case we forgot he was there. The couch Beth and I sat on sort of sagged, pulling us down into the cushions with an irresistible gravity, and every time I readjusted myself I found I had moved closer to Beth and Mr. Shelburton would give his newspaper a workout. I couldn’t help it; everything seemed to be revolving around Beth and my orbit was rapidly decaying.

My plan the next day was to get away to let Emory out of the pole barn, but the Shelburtons never gave me a chance.

First Beth went with me to visit my dad in the hospital. She had amazing power over the evil déjà vu that had ambushed me the first time—instead of feeling despair I was actually a little proud that I knew my way around the place so well. The doctors said he could go home Monday morning but no going in to work for a few days.

“Be hard to work with my arm so sore,” my dad muttered. He seemed depressed. He greeted Beth with easy familiarity—apparently they knew each other. My dad had known Beth and never bothered to tell me about her?

We had a basket full of snickerdoodles for my dad from Mrs. Shelburton and I managed to leave one or two of them for him when we left.

Okay, now I
had
to get away, get home, and let the bear out. Except I wasn’t allowed. First Mr. Shelburton took us out to his ranch to help with the horses and then we met Mrs. Shelburton for lunch and then she asked us to tag along while she ran errands in town. I appreciated being with Beth, but a dreadful anxiety was rising in me, like my conscience was screaming at me.

“What is it, are you worried about your father? He’s going to be okay, Charlie,” Beth said to me at one point, those clear green eyes seeing right into me.

“Yeah,” I said.

When Mr. Shelburton came home I made sure I found a moment to be alone with him. I finally got my opportunity when he stepped out the back door to take out the garbage.

“Mr. Shelburton?”

“Yes, pardner?”

“How long do you figure a bear could go without any water?”

chapter

FOURTEEN

WHEN I heard the family stirring that Sunday morning, my eyes snapped open and I took a shower and then surveyed the clothing Mrs. Shelburton had helped me select by doing it all herself. I was pretty much outfitted to stay a month, so I put on the nicest sweatshirt in my collection, intending to eat breakfast and then go. No matter what, I had to get back home and take care of Emory
now.

I slid out of the guest room as if I had something to feel guilty about and stood on the threshold of the dining room until Mrs. Shelburton invited me in with a smile. This was a family that put all the food into big dishes instead of plating up individual portions at the stove. Sausage and juice and French toast were stacked up, feast-style.

I dealt with the awkwardness of being with a different family by keeping my eyes low. Mr. and Mrs. Shelburton spoke to me in the same concerned fashion that people had always used when my mother was failing; the tone of it left me cold. Craig, of course, was clueless as always and wanted to talk about football, submarines, werewolves, personal jet packs, the upcoming Ali-versus-Foreman bout, and James Bond, somehow making these sound like they were all part of the same subject. Beth was not there and no one mentioned her, which was distressing. As far as I was concerned, Beth was the only reason there was a Shelburton family.

I studied Mrs. Shelburton the way I would one day study bears, observing the behavior of a wonderful and mysterious species. She was a mom and did the type of mom things I had forgotten about. She poured Mr. Shelburton his coffee and whisked eggs with an efficiency that somehow communicated affection through sheer uncluttered economy of motion. When Craig ate his French toast into the shape of a pistol and pointed it at me, she told him in a gentle tone to stop playing with his food.

There was sunlight streaming in through the window by the sink and when Mrs. Shelburton stood in it her hair lit up like a halo.

“Charlie, why did you ask me about bears?” Mr. Shelburton asked abruptly, yanking me out of my thrall.

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Last night. You seemed pretty intent.”

“Bears?” Mrs. Shelburton repeated innocently.

“Oh.” I shrugged casually, but my heart was pounding. “I guess because it just seemed like you’d know the answer.”

“A couple of days, at the most,” he’d speculated.

Today was Sunday. It had
been
a couple of days. I had to get Emory food and water right away. It was urgent. I would have to come up with some pretext to get away.

Mr. Shelburton seemed satisfied with my reason for asking him the bear question. Craig abruptly bolted from the table, only to be halted by his mother: “Craig, clear your plate.”