The Clay Lion (6 page)

I looked up from my government essay and turned
to face him.  “Been down to the hardware store recently?” I asked as
nonchalantly as I could.

“No, why?”

“Oh. 
Just wondering if
they were going to need you to work again for Christmas.”

“Yeah, I guess I
oughta
call them to see if they need me.  I could use the cash if I’m
gonna
get my license this summer!”

Had he forgotten?  Had I reminded him? 
Surely, he would have remembered on his own in the next few days.  Or the
store would have called him.  Surely, I did not just ruin what could have
been the easiest part of the trip.  My stomach felt like I was going to be
sick.  I should have just kept my big mouth shut!  I tried to do some
damage control.

“Well, I wouldn’t call them,” I replied as
casually as I could. “Maybe they won’t need you this year.  You don’t want
to be a nuisance.  Maybe you could find some holiday work somewhere that
would pay better. 
Maybe at the mall or the sports
store?
  If you worked at the sports store, I bet you could get some
kind of discount!  That would be great, wouldn’t it? 
Never gotten a discount at the hardware store, that’s for sure!”
 
Every defense I had come up with spilled out of my mouth all at once and
Branson stared blankly at me as if I had lost my mind.

“You’ve thought an awful lot about this, Sis,” he
replied slowly.

“No.  No.  I just, uh, know you’ve been
saving up for your license and I just was brainstorming about ways that you
might do that, uh, more efficiently,” I stammered.

“You’ve been ‘brainstorming’ about
‘efficiency?’ 
Seriously?”
  He stared at
me. 

I had dug myself into a proverbial hole and
decided that switching topics was my only choice if I wanted to get back out.

“Yeah, whatever.
 
Just trying to help.
 
Speaking of helping, is your leg any better?  Did you use the medicine?”

Branson looked at me skeptically, “Actually yeah,
it’s helping some.  Maybe it’ll be better by the championships.”

“Maybe,” I said hopefully.

Branson sat up, stretched, and threw his legs
over the edge of the bed onto the floor.  “I can’t look at another cosign
or tangent tonight.  I’m
trigonometried
out.  Do you
wanna
go watch TV?”

“Nah, I’m tired.  I think I’m just going to
bed,” I replied.

“Okay.”  He picked up his pile of
books.  “See
ya
later sweet potato,” he said.

“After a while
tator
tot,” I responded.  He smiled and was out the door.

I could not believe how horribly my attempt to
sidetrack Branson from the hardware store had gone.  Not only did I fail
to convince him not to work there, I reminded him that he had forgotten all
about it.  The only thing I had successfully convinced him of was that I
was losing my mind.  I probably had long ago.  As I fell asleep that
night, I resolved to remedy my mistakes and be back on track by the end of the
week.  My only problem was that I had no idea how I was going to make that
happen.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

At lunch Friday afternoon, Sarah and I sat in our
usual spot in the cafeteria at the far end of the senior table.  I was
stewing about how to convince Branson not to work at the hardware store. 
It had been three days since I opened my mouth and inserted my foot by
accidentally reminding him to inquire about the holiday season. 

“So Branson wants me to drive him and Chad to the
movies tonight.
  I told him
I would, but I could care less about the movie they are going to see.  Do
you want to drop them off and just hang out at the mall instead?” I asked
Sarah, nibbling on a carrot stick.

“Yeah.
 
Sure.”  She paused.  “Actually, I overheard my parents talking the
other night about Christmas.  Since Mom was laid off last month, they are
totally freaking out about money.  I know they are stressing about saving
for my college, and there’s not going to be cash for Christmas presents this
year.  They were talking about not getting anything for one another and
actually pawning some of Mom’s old jewelry for presents for Katie and me. 
What do you think about me getting a part time job during the holiday season? 
The mall might be a perfect place so maybe I could fill out some applications
while we are there.”

“Oh
my gosh
,
Sarah!  I think you are brilliant!” I squealed, nearly jumping out of my
seat.  If we had not been across the table from one another, I would have
hugged her.

Without knowing it, Sarah had given me a
wonderful idea.
“Really?
  You think a mall job is
a brilliant idea?” Sarah said
incredulously,
putting the last bite of her tomato sandwich into her mouth.

“Yes, because I am going to get a job with you,”
I declared.  “We can both work at the mall.  It will be way more fun
it we do it together.  And I’m going to try to convince Branson to get a
job at the mall too!” I said a little too excitedly.

“Branson too?”
Sarah asked.  “Doesn’t he usually do the
hardware store thing?”

“Yeah, but I’m trying to convince him to branch
out this year.  I really think he could make more money somewhere
else.  Plus, if we work at the same place, I could just drive us both at
the same time.  I could pick you up too if you want,” I explained.

“Sure.  I guess I should run it by my mom,
but I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”

“Okay.  I think the boys’ movie starts at
6:30, so I can pick you up at 6:00.  I’ll make a list of the stores that
sound like fun to work at and you can make a list too.  We’ll apply to the
ones we both have on our lists.  Sound good?” I asked, finishing my salad.

“Sounds perfect,” Sarah smiled.  She looked
at her watch. “Three minutes until the bell.  I’ve got to run,” she said
as she packed up the remains of her lunch and grabbed her backpack.  “Meet
me at my locker at the end of the day and we can compare lists.”

“Okay.  See you then,” I said.  As
Sarah left I felt a wave of relief wash over me.  She had given me the
idea I had been searching for all week.  If I got a job at the mall, it
would be easy to convince my parents that, if Branson wanted a holiday job, his
should be at the mall too. 
Especially since I would be
the one driving him around.
  They would have to err on the side of
logic and insist that the hardware store, in the opposite direction of the
mall, was out of the question.  I smiled to myself as I threw my trash in
the compactor and left the cafeteria.

Sarah pushed her way through the sea of people
heading out of the building at the end of the day as she struggled to reach her
locker.

“Did you have a chance to make your list?” she
asked.

“Yeah, we watched some film in Chemistry on bases
and acids and I had plenty of time,” I smiled.

“Me too.
  English was a snooze-fest.  More sentence diagraming,” Sarah
rolled her eyes at me as she handed me her list.  “Who’s on your list?”

I handed her my sheet of notebook paper and
glanced over her list.  Except for the ear piercing pavilion (what in the
world?) our lists were the same. 
Mostly specialty
clothing, no kiosks, no food court, and my personal favorite, the bookstore.

“What’s your top pick?” I asked.

“Anyplace I can get a clothing discount,” she
answered nonchalantly.

“What about the bookstore?” I inquired.

“Yeah, the bookstore is good too.  Where do
you think Branson’s going to want to work?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe the sporting goods
store,” I replied, although I was already forming a mental list for him. 
“I’ll pick you up at 6:00,” I called as I turned for the door.  “See
ya
!”

“See
ya
,” Sarah called.

I raced across the parking lot to my car. 
The soccer team was out on the field and I easily spotted Branson’s blond head
bobbing up and down as he dribbled the ball towards the goal.  Incredibly,
the drug store cream that he was using seemed to be helping his rash and he was
practicing at full strength for the championship the following week.  I
was glad that, so far, I did not think I had made things worse and hoped
instead that I was making them better.

I checked my rearview mirror nervously for police
officers shooting radar as I made my way home from school.  I intended to
beat my mother to the house and have dinner already started so she would be
able to sit and put her feet up after working all day.  I hoped that a
relaxed mother was a mother that would be open to my idea about Branson and me
getting jobs at the mall for the next month.  If she and I could present a
united front to Branson, perhaps we could get him to agree to give up on the
hardware store, at least for now.

It had been weeks since I thought about all the
changes I was making to my timeline.  I convinced myself that since things
were mostly the same in my own life, despite everything I had been doing,
clearly I would not be affecting other people’s timelines in any significant
way.  I could only hope and pray that it was actually the case.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

Over the sound of the bubbling water, I heard my
mother’s footsteps on the porch.  A cold draft followed her through the
door and stirred up the aroma of my grandmother’s homemade spaghetti sauce that
was simmering on the stove.  The pot of pasta had just begun to boil and I
was searching through the refrigerator for the butter to attend to the garlic
bread as she arrived.  She greeted me with a smile and a hug, and after
removing her coat and shoes, collapsed at the kitchen table.

“What a day,” she said distractedly.  “How’d
you know I needed a break tonight?”

“Kid’s intuition,” I laughed.

Mom broke in to a liturgy about a new proposal
she was tasked with and about the extra workload she was absorbing since the
company laid off twenty percent of its workforce the previous month.  I
listened attentively and waited for a pause in the conversation while buttering
the garlic bread.  Finally, she asked if I had plans for the night.

“Sarah and I are headed to the mall
tonight.  We’re taking Branson and Chad to the movies.  Sarah wants
to get a holiday job to help her folks out with the bills and I thought it
would be fun if we did something together,” I said.

“Sounds like a great idea,” she replied. 
“As long as you can keep up with your studies,” she added.

 “I will,” I said, rolling my eyes at
her.  “But I don’t know how I will get Branson to the hardware store if I
am working at the mall.  If he wants to work, maybe he should get a job at
the mall too.”

I waited for a response.  Mother was
engrossed in a rather large stack of papers from her briefcase.  I
wondered if she had heard me.

“Mom?”
I said.

“Whatever you want to do, honey…” Mother trailed
off, clearly no longer a part of the conversation.

I smiled to myself, admiring the drive my mother
had professionally.  She had lost that passion after Branson’s
death.  I left her slouched over her paperwork until my father and Branson
got home and I served dinner.  I decided that perhaps I could reason with
Branson about the hardware store in the car on the way to pick up the others,
so I did not attempt to revisit the topic at the table.  Truly, I was
looking forward to the meal and did not want to jeopardize ruining it by
stirring up controversy.  Dinner was the part of the day that had become
my greatest joy since returning to the past, largely because it was one of the
things that I missed the most since Branson’s death in the future. 

For several months after we lost him, the three
of us barely ate.  It seemed absurd that we should take the time and
effort to prepare an actual meal that no one was going to eat anyway, so none
of us did.  Once my parents’ lives began to return to normal, they would
each fix themselves something and retreat into a corner of the house to eat it
alone.  Besides my sendoff dinner, I did not remember a single family meal
in the time since Branson’s passing.  So having an opportunity to share
time together at the dinner table was an occasion I relished. 

As we ate, my father complained about the new tax
hike the government was proposing, my mother continued with her tirade of the
inadequacies of her workforce, and Branson had us all in hysterics as he
described how Mitch Frederickson ended up without a stitch of clothing on in
the middle of the soccer field at practice that afternoon.  It was
Branson’s comical take on life that we all so desperately missed.  In that
moment, over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs, I realized how grateful I was
that time travel had been invented.  The gift of my brother’s presence was
not lost on me.  My resolve to save Branson’s life intensified.