Solomon's Oak (35 page)

“Oh, my gosh, Mom! I thought of the perfect names. Wait till you hear.”

“Tell me.”

“Karma and Patience. From
Sh
gun
. It was Blackthorne’s karma that he had to remain in Japan, and it was his patience that allowed him to capture Ishido. In the book, it says that the moment you accept your karma is when learning begins. Kind of like what Joseph told me. Let one wild feeling take over and it will lead to another. Patience makes you strong. Isn’t that great?”

“It’s terrific,” Glory said, putting her arm around the girl with the impossible grin. “Now tell me what you want for breakfast.”

THE WESTERN BLUEBIRD
(
SIALIA MEXICANA
)

BY JUNIPER McGUIRE

You might expect to see a bluebird in a meadow, but your chances are better if you look in the forest.

Bluebirds are not entirely blue. Gray, white, and dull blue for the females provides camouflage. Deep cobalt blue on the males, except for the drapes on his shoulders that make him look like he’s wearing a chestnut brown shawl.

In the 1939 movie
The Wizard of Oz
Judy Garland sang “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” which the American Film Institute ranks as one of the best songs of all time.

When sailors log 5,000 miles at sea, or cross the equator for the first time, they mark their passage by getting a bluebird tattoo on their right hands. When they come back the other way, logging 5,000 more miles, they get one on the left hand.

Bluebirds are “secondary cavity nesters,” which means they move into other birds’ abandoned houses. The entrance must be no larger than an inch and a half in diameter or starlings can get in and steal their eggs. Look three to five feet aboveground for a bluebird’s nest. Chances are the nest will face south or east.

The bluebird is the state bird of Missouri, New York, Idaho, and Nevada.

One Navajo story says that two bluebirds stand sentry at the Creator’s door.

Bluebirds have long been associated with happiness in essays, plays, novels, and memoirs, which means that you write the truth about your life, no matter how unpleasant.

JTM: Now this is more like it. —JCV

Chapter 11

JOSEPH

Joseph sat on the front porch of his cabin, throwing the tennis ball for Dodge. He worried that if he didn’t make the dog stop and take a drink now and then, he would collapse. All around them Joseph felt spring pitching hardball. Too bad there wasn’t a way to warn the plants. All that sun feels great at first, but in no time it’ll crisp your leaves and there won’t be enough water to go around.

In three weeks his family expected him to drive up, park his car next to his father’s truck, and to sit down while his mother fed him twenty thousand calories because it was common knowledge that a forty-year-old man couldn’t be trusted to feed himself. He needed to wrap things up here, which prior to Glory and Juniper meant packing a suitcase and gassing up the car. But Juniper was responding so well to the homeschooling he hated to go.

He threw the ball long, watching Dodge run toward the lake. The dog loved to swim. He nosed around the shoreline upending turtles and displacing frogs. But with children racing by and campers taking walks wherever they pleased, Joseph would soon have to keep Dodge leashed. The dog brought the ball back and dropped it at his feet, looking at him hopefully. “Give me a break,” Joseph told him.

Should he drop him at his father’s farm, where he’d have to fight his way into the herd hierarchy? If Joseph moved back to Albuquerque, would walks in the ninety-degree heat suffice? There were eleven dog parks, but he’d driven by those places, sun-beaten and grassless. Dodge lived for his daily swim. He didn’t mind that Joseph had to go slowly on hikes. All that meant was that he could race back to check on Joseph and cover twice the distance.

The matter of Glory was not so easily resolved. Imagining a day going by that they didn’t talk was difficult. Juniper, that wild streak in her, her street smarts and courage … she was an embryonic autodidact if ever there was one. While Dodge slurped water from his bowl, Joseph walked to the lake’s edge, where segmented horsetails shot up, their stems marked by distinctive brown rings. Dodge raced by him, crashing through bushes and scaling rocks, and jumped in the water. When you pulled the sections of horsetail apart, they made a popping noise. Juniper would rattle the keys on the keyboard and report to him:

Equisetum
is a rogue in the plant world because it reproduces by spores instead of seeds. It’s non-photosynthetic! One-hundred-million-plus years old! A survivor of the Paleozoic era. As close to a living fossil as any plant can be, and guess what? It’s Pre-Columbian!

He could tell her that when Grandma Penny ran out of steel wool, she sent Joseph to the lake to pull up a handful of horsetails to show him how good a job they did on her cast-iron kettle.
Like
papel de lija
, sandpaper, its abrasiveness can turn a rough thing into a smooth thing. Not everything comes from a store.

Examining Nanny’s DNA profile led Juniper to research the Dead Sea Scrolls, written on goatskin. DNA results had proven that the pieces of skin had been taken from the same goat, or its relative, and allowed scientists to order and date the holy text of the Jewish religion.

I don’t believe in religion, Juniper said. What has God ever done for me?

But Joseph watched Juniper singing to the dogs and currying the horses. Looking at the past was warming her up to the idea of a future. God was patient.

“The girl is coming around all on her own,” he had told Glory yesterday, which was code for “I have to leave you both and I don’t know how to do that.”

In return, Glory said, “Butterflies are hatching,” which was code for “I can’t talk about your leaving because then it will be real.”

Weddings, butterflies, goats, and dogs; Glory would be fine after he left. She was the kind of person who soldiered on. The abundance of female energy in his life made Joseph dwell less on his aches and pains. The impossible oak tree resisting his efforts to capture it on film couldn’t compete with a homemade peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and an hour of conversation filled with laughter.

Back at the cabin he sat down on the porch steps, and Dodge, stinky and wet, whined. He looked at the ball and then up to Joseph, as close as they got to a common language. “Thirty-six more times.” Joseph counted down until he reached zero and stood up and walked inside to the kitchen. “We’re putting the ball into the drawer now,” he explained, showing Dodge and closing the drawer.

Joseph sat in front of the computer, looking at the photos he’d chosen to finish his project. The disc was at the copy shop, and soon they’d call and say the prints were done. He’d ordered five comb-bound sets. One for Juniper, one for Fidela and the boys, one for Lorna, and two spares.

He didn’t need to look to feel the dog staring at him as he waited for his beloved ball to reappear. How the heck did Glory get any work done? What did she know that he didn’t? Dodge sent out
pleasepleaseplease
vibes and Joseph gave up.
“No mas
today,
comprende?”

Clearly Dodge did not
comprende.

When his cell phone rang, Joseph was thrilled. Any call was preferable to another game of ball.
“Ya’at’eeh,”
he said, in case it was Juniper. He was trying to enlarge her knowledge of languages.

“Joseph?”

He heard the catch in Glory’s voice and knew it was bad news. “What happened?”

“It’s Juniper’s father. He’s come out of hiding.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Probably not. He left her once already. What if she gets her hopes up and he disappoints her again? What if he wants to move her someplace like Baltimore or Scranton or Milwaukee? What if I never see her again?”

“Go get in your truck,” he said. “Drive to the Woodpecker Café. I’ll buy you lunch.”

“I can’t eat.”

“You can watch me eat. What did Juniper say when you told her?”

“That’s the problem. I haven’t told her yet. Besides, I don’t want to leave her alone here. I’m out here in the barn calling you so she won’t hear me.”

“Juniper’s ready for a chance to prove herself. Woodpecker Café, fifteen minutes.” He ended the call before Glory could come up with another reason to stay stuck in her pickle and felt his own heart sink. Poor kid.

He’d forgotten that the café’s mantel was Dan Solomon’s woodwork, but it was the first thing Glory noticed. She walked right by the table Katie Jay led them to and placed her hand against the chiseled oak. Joseph watched her while he waited at the table for her to return. When she did, he said, “I like the BLTs here.”

“What’s the soup?” Glory asked the waitress.

“Vegetable barley.”

“Guess I’ll have the BLT.”

“Sounds good to me, too,” said Joseph.

Katie Jay shook her head. “Watch yourself around this one,” she told Glory. “Wheat, white, or sourdough?”

“Sourdough,” they answered in tandem, then laughed.

“Tell me everything,” Joseph said when their drinks arrived.

Glory related Caroline’s phone call. “Unless they’re members of the Manson family, biological parents win out over foster care. The courts don’t overlook abandonment or abuse, and they insist on counseling, but he could take her away, this very week.” Her face was impassive. She wouldn’t look directly at him, but her gaze kept returning to the fireplace mantel. “Dan was a great carpenter.”

“Yes, he was.” Joseph folded his hands and placed them on the table. “Maybe I have something you can use.”

“What?”

“Juniper’s homeschooling. She’s getting caught up with high school requirements. I’ve been to family court dozens of times. I can go as her guardian
ad litem
. The judge will agree it would be a shame to interrupt such progress. He could be swayed.”

“I doubt it. Anyone can homeschool. And there are good schools everywhere. Thanks for trying, but I think I’m sunk. I’m a coward, Joseph. I can’t tell her.”

“Yes, you can.”

“How?”

He reached across the table and took her hand. “Let’s walk around the lake. Sometimes when you let your mind go blank, your subconscious comes up with solutions.”

Probably it was Joseph’s taking Glory’s hand that changed things. The hug she gave him when they walked along the familiar path around the lake was also part of it. Then they both spotted the pair of herons wedding-marching their way through the horsetails, and that was it. Maybe the connection began way back when she found that arrowhead, but Joseph was pretty sure that what tipped them over was the pain in his back that stopped him. “I have to rest a minute,” he said, and leaned over a boulder, both arms bracing him.

“Of course.” She whistled for Dodge and practiced a few dance moves with the dog until Joseph could straighten up. He leaned on her shoulder as they walked slowly back to his cabin.

Indoors, she helped him to his bed, brought an icepack, and handed him his pills and a glass of water. “I can stay awhile,” she said. “What else do you need?”

She needed to tell Juniper; he needed to tell Glory he was leaving and that he no longer wanted to. But first he needed the painkiller to hit his bloodstream, and he needed to count down the minutes until it did. “Talk to me. About anything. After thirty minutes, I’ll be okay.”

“No, you won’t,” she said. “After today, nothing will ever be okay again.”

He watched her tidy his cabin according to standards a woman found necessary that a man did not. Dusting, for example, when the house was slated to be torn down.
And then Caroline called and it was like this hole in my heart was waiting for Juniper …
Putting the clean dishes back into the cupboard when the cupboard and the dishes were destined for the Dumpster outside.
Cadillac, saying he took to her is putting things mildly, and what if he won’t let her take the dog?
… Giving Dodge a good brushing, which sent hair flying, which didn’t matter, but then she swept up with a broom and dustpan.
Maybe I’m drawn to difficult people …
He’d never noticed the broom in the closet. Because his back wouldn’t allow the movement necessary to sweeping, the broom stayed in the shadows, invisible.
And it isn’t like this is forever, she has three years and change before she’s legally an adult, we could e-mail, right?
… When there was nothing left to do, she washed her hands, then came to sit beside him on the bed. “How’s your pain?”

“Better.” He felt the bed give to accommodate the extra hundred pounds. The weight was nothing. It didn’t change anything, but it changed everything. “Either way, whether she goes to her dad or she doesn’t, I want you to come with me to New Mexico.”

“I can’t travel.”

“Why not?”

She raised her arm and gestured widely. “The farm, the weddings, and who’s going to take care of my animals? The dogs are on special diets, Edsel’s seizures are what landed him in the shelter in the first place—”

“How about asking one of your foster sons? They’re old enough, reliable, and they know the place. You said Robynn was sweet on Gary. I’m sure they’d welcome the opportunity to be alone together. If you’re worried about Edsel, bring him with you.”

“How can I leave California? It’s my home.”

“I don’t think they revoke your license for an out-of-state visit. A week or two. When’s the last time you had a vacation?”

“A couple of years ago Dan and I drove to Yosemite. Dan wanted to see the giant sequoias—just like you, he loved the trees. We stayed at the Ahwahnee hotel, which was incredibly expensive, even off-season. It was fall, the leaves, my gosh, were they pretty. Did you know that Ansel Adams used to show up there every afternoon to practice the piano? So many people came to listen, the hotel started serving high tea.”

She was operating on raw nerves, close to stammering. Their mutual attraction was expanding. The elephant in the room. High voltage if they dared touch. His heart, which he was certain had hardened to steel, unfolded one wing. If things caught fire, he’d have to let them burn … Joseph reached out and took her hand. He pulled her fingers to his mouth and pressed his lips against them. “Like sparks,” he said, “under your skin.” When he took both her hands to pull her toward him, she hesitated, but only for a second. Then she lay down next to him, murmuring, “This is such a bad idea,” while he kissed her shoulder, which tasted of salt, and the hollow in her neck, which didn’t, and her cheek and finally her mouth and said, “Give me one good reason to stop and I will.”

Whether she could or couldn’t hardly mattered because she didn’t. For a while she kept her eyes shut, and he wondered if that was her way, or if were she to open them, the connection would shatter. Either way, right when their breath was coming the faster, he had to stop her. “This is terribly embarrassing.”

“More embarrassing than a rag rug?”

“Yes. If things go any further, I have to ask you to be on top. My back.”

“Is that all? I thought, oh, no, Joseph’s going to tell me he’s not
that
kind of guy and call me a
picarona
.”