Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series) (10 page)

BOOK: Glory Alley and the Star Riders (The Glory Alley Series)
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First stop was the barn.

“Wait here while I get
M
om
’s present,”
s
he ordered
.

A few minutes later
,
s
he emerged
from the barn and
the two of them headed out
over the grassy yard toward the field
.
The sun shined
hot despite the cool breeze
.
She
unbuttoned h
er
coat.

“Itchy,”
George
said, yanking off h
is
hat
.
Glory
promptly pulled it back over h
is
head
.
H
is
little legs had trouble navigating over the dirt clods, so
s
he carried
him
on h
er
back across the clumpy field
.

“I’m sweating like a work horse,”
s
he said, finally setting h
im
down with
her
backpack at the edge of the woods
.


George
, can you keep a secret?”

S
till sucking h
is
thumb, he nodded.

“Good, because
do
I have something to show you.”

H
er
hands shook as
s
he unzipped
the pack and reached for
the
rock
.
Nonetheless,
s
he
held
it up to the sunlight
.
This time its smooth indigo surface shimmered with
a rainbow
sheen.

George
’s thumb fell out of h
is
mouth
.

“BOOOO-tiful!

he clapped.

Of all the people on
Tullah
Glory
could count on
George
to share h
er
appreciation for something so beautiful
.
H
is
little hand reached for it, but remembering how it exploded on first contact
,
s
he lofted it higher.

“Sorry, look but don’t touch
.
It’s for
M
om
.”

“Mom?”
George
said with a blank stare
.
Glory
sighed, realizing the word held little meaning for h
im
.

Glory
put the
stone
away, took
George’s
hand in h
ers
, and resumed walking. Normally the journey took under an hour, but it was slow
going with
George
along
.
They went through the woods, and
s
he carried
him
across the creek, over the stepping stones
.
Up the big hill
,
they puffed until the black iron fence
c
ame into view.

“This is where
our
mo
ther
is buried,”
she
announced
.
Glory
felt
duty
bound
to
teach
George
about
Mom
.
“She loved us, you know
.
I cried a lot after she died. But
Grandpa
Kracker explained it to me like this:  All life comes from the dust and stones of
Tullah
.
So death is like going home
.
This means
Mom
isn’t really gone, because she dwells all around us
in
the dust
,
in the wind, and under our feet in the very stones of
Tullah
itself.

Sh
e stamped a foot for emphasis.

“Do you understand,
George
?”

H
e lifted both arms and twirled in place. “Around and around,” he said between giggles.

Yes,
Glory
decided,
George
understood
.

As they approached mother’s grave,
s
he stopped in h
er
tracks and frowned
.
Eyes narrowed to slits
.
The
heart
s
he’d built was gone
.

“I hate that man,”
Glory
hissed, thinking
s
he’d like to punch the groundskeeper right between the eyes. “Someday,
George
,”
s
he vowed
.
“I’m going to buy
Mom
the grandest monument you’ll ever see.

For a
mom
ent
,
s
he considered topping h
er
next homemade
monument with the indigo rock
, but that was a dumb idea
.
The groundskeeper would remove it or somebody would steal it
.
So
better
stick to
the
original plan, which meant burying
t
his new treasure along with
her
other best finds over
Mom’s
gravesite
.

Glory
removed the
rock
,
a pain
t
brush and a couple of tubes of paint
pens
from the bag.


What
’s dat

?

George
squatted beside
her
.

“Every year on
M
om
’s birthday I come here to give her a gift
.
It’s sort of like a birthday card and a present all in one.”
She
winked
.

Good thing
th
ese
paint pens are quick dry
.

After a few minutes
of writing X’s and O’s, and a few choice words,
s
he concluded with

Love,
Glory
.

“What do you think,
George
?”
s
he said proudly.

Pulling
a
thumb out of h
is
mouth, he said, “
BOOOtiful.”
Then promptly began sucking again.

“Mom,” she said. “I’ve never seen a rock like this before, and I’m pretty sure it’s not a precious metal or gem, probably not worth a lot, but it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever found
.
I want you to have it on the condition
that
if it turns out to be really valuable I can take it back
.
I’m sure that’s what you’d want me to do—
to
help the family
.
Right?

Quiet fell across the
cemetery
. Glory listened to the wind half
-
expect
ing
Mom to answer
.
She didn’t
.


Thanks, Mom,
I knew you’d understand.”

Glory
took a potting shovel out of
the
bag and began to dig, while
George
skipped around h
er
singing in a language only he underst
ood
.
They stayed at the grave longer than intended
.
She
chatted to
Mom
about h
er
hopes
and dreams, wishing her a happy birthday. The sun began to sink below the line of the trees
.
The
breeze took on a chill.

“Me cold,”
George
said
.

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