SARA, BOOK 2 (2 page)

“I’ll go with you,” Seth chirped.

“What are you so happy about?” his father growled.

“Nothin’,” Seth said. “Nothin’.”

CHAPTER
2

S
eth heard truck doors slam, and it jolted him back into the present. He looked at what had been the house, now just a smoldering
pile of rubble. It was amazing how little time it took for an entire house to burn to the ground.

Seth heard his mother’s gasp, and then he heard something he couldn’t remember ever hearing before. His mother was crying.

His father walked up the hill and sat on the log next to Seth, and his mother sat crumpled on the running board of the truck,
sobbing silently, her small body shaking so hard that the truck bounced on its shoddy old springs.

A deep, deep sadness washed over Seth. He really didn’t care at all about the awful old house, but it was clear that his mother
had experienced a greater loss. She looked so tired, so defeated.

Seth had never seen his mother look like this. He knew that he shouldn’t try to comfort her.

“Best just to let her be,” his father said.

As much as Seth hated his mother’s stubborn, ornery strength, he was sure he preferred that to this. His mother was always
strong, no matter what.

He remembered walking home from school with a neighbor a few years back. Roland, his walking chum, was a year or two older
and was full of wisdom that Seth was eager to absorb.

One day Roland pulled a box of matches from his pocket. He showed Seth how to throw the match just right, sort of like you’d
throw a spear; and if you managed to hit it the right way on something hard, like a rock, the match would burst into flame.
It was hard to do, but really fun.

Roland and Seth practiced throwing matches at rocks every day. They were getting very good at it. Then one day, a match bounced
off into some dry grass, and the grass caught on fire. It all happened so fast. Seth and Roland stomped on the flames, but
the wind was blowing and the flames spread quickly, and there were far too many flames for the boys to stomp out. The fire
spread from farm to farm, burning acre after acre. Seth could still remember his parents coming home after hours of fighting
the fire, their clothes and skin covered with soot. They were so tired they could barely propel their bodies forward. Dragging
on the ground behind them were the burned, dirty, wet gunny sacks they had been using to beat back the flames. Seth would
never forget the looks on their faces. Disappointment, anger, and disgust, all muted by their agonizing physical exhaustion.
Seth never understood why he had been allowed to continue to live after doing something so very, very bad when so many other
relatively minor infractions had brought him such beatings and punishment. He was, however, wise enough not to bring it up
in order to find out. He had decided it was just as well to leave this as one of the great mysteries of the Universe.

As Seth thought back on that blackest of days, he actually wished his mother could be angry or exhausted now, instead of this.
He had learned to cope with her anger, even when it was directed at him. But he had never seen her so broken.

“Where’s Samuel?” Seth heard his mother’s voice.

Seth was so happy his mother had spoken he had to stop and think where his little brother was.

“He got off the bus at Mrs. Whitaker’s place. This is the day he mows her lawn. She said she’d bring him home when he’s done
if it’s raining. Want me to go get him?”

“No, he’ll be along. Get that big brush and see what you can do about sweeping out the feed room in the barn. Let’s get a
blanket up over the door. And see if any of those old lanterns still work! I’ll get the bucket and milk the goat. Gotta be
careful with the milk,” Seth heard his mother mutter. “That’s all there’ll be for supper.”

Seth was always amazed at how well his mother dealt with crises. She was like an old drill sergeant, spouting commands and
bringing order to things. And, for now, Seth really didn’t mind that at all. The circumstances somehow seemed to create a
new feeling of clarity; and Seth jumped into action, feeling alive and stimulated. He watched his mother corner the goat and
begin to milk her.
Mother’s something else,
Seth thought.

Rebuilding the house wasn’t a possibility. It would require far more resources than the Morris family had, and besides, this
wasn’t their land anyway. The landlord had no insurance on the old shack and was absolutely not willing to rebuild it, so
Seth’s parents had decided, once again, that the family would move on.

CHAPTER
3

Who Is Solomon?

I
t was a warm and sunny afternoon in Sara’s mountain town. In fact, Sara had decided earlier that this was the prettiest day
so far this year. And to celebrate this extra-pretty day, she had decided to go to her favorite place in the whole town, her
leaning perch. She called it
her
leaning perch because no one else in town even seemed to notice that it existed. Sara couldn’t come to this spot without remembering
how it came to be. How the metal railing atop the Main Street Bridge had been bent way out over the river when a local farmer
had lost control of his truck while trying to avoid running over Harvey, a friendly and always roving dog, who weaved his
way in and out of traffic every day, always expecting everyone to stop or swerve to make way for him. And, so far, it had
always worked out that way. Sara was relieved that no one had been hurt that day, not even Harvey, who many thought deserved
to get run over.
I’ve heard of
cats having nine lives,
Sara thought to herself as she remembered that day,
but not dogs.

Sara lay there, lazily watching the river flow by beneath her. She breathed deeply and enjoyed the wonderful smell of this
delicious river. She couldn’t remember ever feeling better. “I
love
my life!” Sara said right out loud, feeling a fresh exuberance and an eagerness for more.

“Well, better get going,” Sara said to herself, climbing back out of her perch and gathering up her book bag and jacket that
she had piled in a heap on the bridge. She was still standing on the bridge when the Morris family’s rattling, sagging, overloaded
truck drove across it. It wasn’t the loud clanging of an out-of-tune engine, the crates of chickens tied to the roof, or the
old goat teetering in the back of the truck that caught Sara’s eye, but the intense, interested gaze of a boy riding in the
back. His eyes locked with Sara’s, and for a moment, they each felt as if they had met an old friend. Then the truck sputtered
on down the road. Sara threw her bag over her shoulder and ran down the road to the intersection, looking to see where the
truck pulled in.
It looks like it pulled into
the old Thacker place,
she thought.
Hmm.

Sara picked up her pace as she walked toward the Thacker house. She was intensely curious about what she would find.

Sara had heard that old Grandmother Thacker had passed away, but she hadn’t given much thought to what would happen to her
old house. Her husband had died even before Sara was born, and it seemed to her that Mrs. Thacker had been waving
Hello!
for Sara’s whole life. Sara never knew her children, for they were all grown up and gone before she was old enough to walk
around town by herself. Over the years, Sara had come to know the life patterns of this independent old woman, and it felt
empty now that she was gone.

Sara had heard someone in the drugstore talking about Grandmother Thacker. (Everyone in town called her that.) “Her damn kids
didn’t even bother to come to her funeral,” she heard Pete, the druggist, complain. “Bet they’ll be around fast enough to
collect any money she’s left behind, though. You just wait and see.”

As Sara walked, she felt worse and worse. And she knew why, too. “Solomon, I don’t want anybody moving into Grandmother Thacker’s
house,” she complained. “Solomon, can you hear me?”

“Who’s Solomon? Who are you talking to?” Sara heard a boy’s voice from behind her.

She wheeled around, startled that she had been overheard. She was certain that her face was turning bright red.
Where in the world did he come
from?
she thought, embarrassed out of her mind. Sara just couldn’t believe that this had happened. She’d been caught, for the first
time ever, talking to Solomon.

Sara was not
about
to answer his question. She had never told anyone about Solomon, and she certainly wasn’t about to tell a total stranger this
most important secret.

It was a pretty amazing story. She didn’t know how she would ever get anyone to believe that she had met an owl last year
on Thacker’s Trail, the owl could actually talk, and that he called himself Solomon. And that even after her little brother,
Jason, and his friend Billy had shot and killed Solomon, she was still able to have conversations with him. Sara knew no one
would believe that she could hear Solomon’s voice in her head.

There were times when Sara longed for someone to share this extraordinary experience with, but it felt too risky. If they
misunderstood, they could ruin things. And Sara liked things the way they were with Solomon. She liked having this special
friend all to herself—a wise and wonderful friend who had answers to anything that she could ask—a teacher who always seemed
to appear just at the right time to help bring clarity to something that Sara was trying to understand.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I talk to myself all the time, too.” Seth said. “They say there’s no need to worry unless you start
answering yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sara stammered, still flushed and embarrassed and looking mostly down. She took a deep breath and looked
up. And there were those eyes again, familiar-seeming eyes like those of an old friend.

“I’m Seth. I guess we’re going to live here, I mean, over
there,
” he said, pointing in the direction of the old Thacker place.

“I’m Sara. I live past the river and down the road a ways.” Sara’s voice quivered as she spoke. This had really set her off
balance.

“My dad sent me over to see if the creek water is clear, and to check out how far it is. I’d better get back.”

Sara was relieved. All she wanted to do was run away, as far away as possible, from this strange new boy who hadn’t even been
in town for a whole hour and had already managed to intrude into the most important secret of her entire life.