That evening, after supper, Daniel and Crane went out to the porch, to sit and work on music. Evan, still in a funk about
his tires being slashed, sat in front of the television watching a western, along with Guthrie.
Ford had gone, with some argument from Hannah, over to Valerie's house.
"We're just going to watch a movie or something," he told Hannah.
"Well, alright." She leaned in to give Ford a hug. "I'm sorry. I know I'm probably overreacting-"
"It's okay," Ford said, in his calm way, hugging her back.
Adam and Hannah had gone up to their bedroom, along with Isaac. Adam had looked exhausted during supper.
I made popcorn again, and curled up in a chair, reading Pride and Predudice, across from Brian and Clare.
Clare was stretched out, her feet in Brian's lap, and they were both reading, too.
When the phone began to ring, I was the one who got up to go answer it. After I said 'hello?' Lori's
voice came across the telephone, and we talked for a few minutes. I pulled the extra long cord around,
and sat on the bottom step of the stairs while I talked.
She asked me if I was going to come to spend the night the next night like we had planned earlier in the
week. I hesitated, but then thought that surely the family would have no objections. I would be right there,
at Lori's house, safe and sound, not running the streets or coming into contact with the mysterious 'tire slasher'.
"My mom wants to know if you're coming for sure or not," Lori told me. "She said she'll get some extra snacks for us."
"Okay. Hold on a minute," I told her, and stood up, lowering the phone receiver to rest it against my thigh.
"Hey, Bri," I said, and he looked up from his gun magazine.
"What?"
"Lori wants to know if I can spend the night tomorrow night," I told him.
"No," he said, simply and shortly, and turned back to his reading.
"We'd be at her house," I said. "We wouldn't go anywhere by ourselves."
He didn't say anything, and I covered the phone so Lori couldn't hear.
"We'd stay right there, I promise," I persisted.
Brian turned a little, so that he was facing me, and rested his arm along the back of the couch.
"What did I say?" he asked.
It was the sort of question that is asked, when the person asking it knows exactly what was said, and they know
that you know it, too. Not to mention the look on Brian's face. It was set. And irritated.
"You said 'no'," I said, feeling my stomach knot a little.
Brian met my eyes, intently. "Right," he said. His voice was quiet enough, but spoke a lot more than that one word.
"Okay," I said, and pulled the cord around to sit back down on the bottom stair.
"Brian said no," I told her. "Because of everything that's going on. Sorry."
"It's okay," Lori said, sounding disappointed. "I wish you could, though. Do you think if my mom called him, he
might change his mind?"
I looked towards Brian, who'd turned back around, and I knew that if I'd had Lori's mom ask first, it might
have been different. But, if she called now, and talked to Brian, he'd be really mad at me, since he'd already
refused permission.
"No. I better not," I said.
After that, we didn't talk much longer, promising to talk again in the next day or so.
I hung the phone up, and went quietly back to my chair, picking up my book and going back to the page I'd been
reading. I looked up to see Brian sitting there, watching me, and immediately I felt squirmy. He was going to
holler at me, I knew it. To my surprise, and immense relief, he held my gaze for a long, long few moments, and then
went back to reading his magazine.
Those moments were really uncomfortable, but I thought maybe he was just going to let the conversation pass by.
7
I was out of the shower, and in my pajamas, and opened the bathroom door, going down the hall to my bedroom.
The door was already open, and Brian was sitting on the side of my bed. I stopped for a moment, in the
doorway, and then went on in.
"Hi," I said, feeling my stomach flutter with nerves. Not that it was impossible that he had just come to say good night. It was
unlikely, however, after the whole Lori-phone call thing.
"Hi," he answered. Then, "Close the door."
Well, that answered any doubts that I had. I sighed, and turned to close the door behind me.
When I just stood there, looking at him a little nervously, he said, his voice quiet, "I want to talk to you."
"Okay," I said, my voice just as quiet.
"Since when is it okay for you to argue with me when I tell you 'no' about something?" he asked.
"It's not," I said. "It's not okay, I mean."
"No means no, Harlie."
I nodded. "I know it does," I said, subdued.
"So what was that all about? You testing the waters, or what?" Brian asked.
I didn't know what to say, really, so I shrugged my shoulders a little in answer.
"That's not an answer," he said.
"I shouldn't have asked again, after you said no," I said, and bit at my lip a little. "It's just-it's summer, and it's supposed
to be time to have fun."
For a couple of long moments, we just looked at each other.
"Comere," he said, and I went over to stand beside the bed, a little reluctantly. Once there, he took my
hand, and tugged me down, to sit beside him on the bed.
"We just want you kids to stay close to home for a while," he said then. "Until we figure out what's going on."
"I know," I sighed.
"We're just concerned about keepin' everybody safe," Brian went on.
I nodded at him. "I know that."
I would have pointed out that I would have been perfectly safe at Lori's house, but knew it would be best
to refrain from a comment like that.
"Alright." He laid a hand on my leg. "But for whatever reason, if you're told no about something, then that's
final. Got it?"
I met his eye. "Got it."
7
The next day began as a usual sort of day. Chores, housework, helping with Isaac. Hannah went upstairs to lay down
in the afternoon, and I volunteered to watch the baby. I took him outside, pushing him down the driveway in his
stroller. While I was doing that, Daniel came up the driveway, after stopping at the mail box.
He pulled up beside me, and stepped on the brake. "Hey," he greeted me.
"Hey," I said, leaning in his open window. "Did we get a lot of mail?"
"Yeah. Mostly junk. And bills, it looks like."
"Maybe we won the sweepstakes," I said.
"Maybe so," Daniel said, looking down as he sifted thru the pile of mail. "Here's somethin' for you," he said, and
handed me an envelope.
I hardly ever get any mail, so I took it from him, and my first reaction was to be pleased.
There was no return address, and my name and address were written in a curly type of handwriting.
"I wonder if it's from Karissa," I said, and Daniel looked concerned.
"Hmm," he said. "Well, if it is, and she's tryin' to start anything up, you need to let somebody else see it."
"Okay," I said.
"You and Scooter want a ride up to the house?" he asked me.
"No, thanks," I said.
"Okay," Daniel said, and drove on.
Since we were at the end of the driveway anyway, I turned the stroller around, prepared to begin walking back up.
I crouched down beside the stroller to open the letter. I was curious enough about who it was from that I didn't want to wait.
"Who's it from, do you think, Isaac?" I asked, as the baby reached out and tried to grab at the envelope.
"Just a minute, baby," I told him. "I'll let you hold the envelope."
I took out the letter inside, and handed the envelope to Isaac, who promptly and cheerfully began to chew on it.
And, as I began to read, I felt my heart begin to pound, and I stood up.
The words were few, but sent a chill down my back.
"I know who wants to hurt your family. Meet me in Murphys Saturday afternoon behind the
lumberyard. At two."
It was signed, simply, "S."
7
I tucked the letter into my back jean's pocket, and pushed the stroller back up the driveway, feeling as though
I was in a trance.
Over Isaac's babbling, I ran thru my racing thoughts.
What should I do? There was no doubt in my mind that Seth had written and sent the letter. Why would he
want to meet me? I mean, besides the obvious answers of wanting to scare me, or put the moves on me. And
how would he know who it was that wanted to cause the McFaddens trouble? I'd been fairly certain that he had been the
one that made the mysterious threatening call to Hannah.
But, maybe not. Maybe it hadn't been Seth. Maybe he really did know something. But, even if I'd been allowed to
go to town by myself and could meet up with him, I wouldn't do it. That was just out and out stupidity, and I knew it.
No good could come of it. I had the sudden, traitorious thought that maybe I could learn something, though, and help
my family.
No, I stopped my mind from going there. All that would lead to was trouble.
I made it up to the house, and pushed Isaac thru the yard. Daniel had backed the truck up to one of the sheds, and
was unloading some lumber.
"Hey," he called to me, and so I pushed the stroller over to him.
"Was it from Karissa?" he asked me.
When I looked at him blankly for a moment, he prompted, "The letter? Is it from her?"
"Um, no," I said.
"Oh," Daniel said, and then took another board from the stack in the back of the truck. I hesitated, watching him.
"Daniel?" I said, and when he stopped to look at me again, I pulled the letter from my pocket and handed it to him.
Daniel wiped his arm across his forehead, and then reached out to take the paper from me.
"What's goin' on?" he asked me, taking note of my nervous demeanor.
"I don't know," I said, and he began to read the letter.
He read it, and then appeared to read it again, looking up, his eyes flashing.
"What the hell," he said.
"This mean anything to you?" he asked me then.
"No," I said, shaking my head.
"Alright," he said, handing it back to me. "Go find Adam, or Brian, and show them."
"Now?" I asked. "Or can it wait until supper?"
"Do it now," Daniel said.
"Okay," I said. "Where are they, do you know?"
"Check the barn, or ask Hannah," Daniel told me. "I'll go see where Crane is."
"Okay," I said again, and went back towards the house, taking Isaac from his stroller, and toting him up the stairs.
Inside the house, the fans were running, and it was cool, and smelled like brownies.
I went first to the kitchen, but saw nobody, and then started up the back stairs when I heard the back door open, and
came back down, half-way. I caught a glimpse of booted feet, and heard the opening and closing of the kitchen cabinets
and water running. I went back down the stairs again, pausing on the bottom.
Adam was filling a glass with water, and when I said, "Adam?" he turned with a jerk.
"Dang, sugar," he said. "You startled me. I didn't hear you."
"Sorry," I said.
Adam came forward, taking Isaac from me. "How's little Bug?" he asked me.
"He's good. We went for a walk."
"That's good," Adam said, kissing the baby on the forehead, while Isaac chortled happily.
I dug the letter back out of my pocket. "I got a letter in the mail," I said.
"Yeah?" he asked, still smiling at the baby.
"Uh huh."
Adam looked at me again, as I held it out to him. "I showed Daniel, and he said to show you right away," I said.
Adam read it, which took only a couple of seconds, and then he lowered it to look at me again, his jaw set.
"This came to you?" he asked me.
"Yeah."
"What'd the envelope say? The return address?" he asked.
"It didn't have one," I told him.
"Let me see it," he said.
"I let Isaac hold it," I said. I thought for a moment. "I think it's still in the stroller, outside."
"Go get it."
So I hurried back thru the house, to the front porch, and down the stairs, to where I'd left the stroller.
I grabbed the envelope, which was a bit worse for wear, after having Isaac bend and chew on it. I tried to straighten
it out as I walked, smoothing over the wet places.
Adam had put Isaac on the rug in the living room to play with his toys, and was waiting, pushing the screen door
open as I came back up the steps.
He reached out and took the envelope from me, looking it over. I stood beside him, peering at it, too.
"See, no return address," I pointed out.
"Mailed from Angels Camp," Adam said, thoughtfully.
"Oh. Does that mean something?" I asked.
"Not necessarily." He turned to look down at me. "So, what do you think about this?" he asked me then, his
tone serious and to the point.
"I don't know. I think-" I paused.
"You think what?" he prompted me.
"I think it's from Seth," I said. "I mean, more than likely it is."
Adam nodded, looking grim. "I imagine that you're right."
We stood there, in quiet, for a few minutes. He handed the letter and envelope back to me. "Put these on
the desk," he told me. "I'll call Hal after awhile."
I nodded, and he said, "Where's Hannah?"
"Taking a nap or helping Clare upstairs, I think."
"Alright." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Don't answer the phone, alright?"
I knew he was thinking that Seth might try to call, and I nodded.
"I'll be back in shortly," he told me, and went out.
I watched Isaac after that, lying on the floor on my stomach, watching while he played with his toys.
When Hannah came downstairs, she was apologizing.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't intend to sleep so long, and have you take care of the baby all
afternoon," she told me.
"It's alright," I said, sitting up. "We were outside for awhile."
"Oh, I know he liked that," Hannah said, leaning down to pick Isaac up, and nuzzling his neck.
I told Hannah briefly about the letter and that I'd talked to Adam about it already. Her face was lined
with worry, and she sat on the couch, holding the baby.
"This is craziness," she said.
I was quiet and she said, "Well, it will get sorted out. Do you want to help me with supper?"
So that's where we were, joined eventually by Clare, who'd also been taking a nap.
"None of us are sleeping very well," Hannah said. "I know Adam's not. Is Brian?"
"No. He was up and down all night," Clare said.
I was setting the table when my brothers all began trooping inside, scraping their boots on the rug at the door, and
going to the sink to wash up.
We ate supper, and the discussion fell to the letter, and what the explanation could be.
It wasn't the most pleasant topic of conversation, and it made my stomach hurt. I pushed my bowl of beef stew
away, only half-eaten, and nibbled on my celery.
The phone began ringing, and Brian went to answer it, coming back to say in disgust, "Said hello three times, and they
hung up without answering."
7
RESPONSE AND THOUGHTS
In response to the last chapter of this story, where Guthrie discussed joining the National Guard with Harlie, it seemed alot
of readers didn't like that, and didn't feel that it was something that Guthrie would do. That it was not within the range of his
personality.
That could be. All I can say about it is this. It's what the 'muse' told me to write. And yeah, sometimes I can control the 'muse' and
say that I wont write something in particular, but in this case I didn't.
It was more to show the relationship between Guthrie and Harlie, the closeness that they share. I don't really think that it is
something that Guthrie will follow thru with. At least at this time I think that.
Guthrie is getting older, and thinking about his possibilities in life, considering what he might want to do.
There was a guest reviewer who I cant address personally, and she thinks that Guthrie is 'beyond goody-goody' and
not believable as a McFadden.
I guess what I think of that is that yes, he is pretty laid-back. Not a big rebel. I'm not trying to make the teenage Guthrie
out to be perfect by any means. I just look at the way River Phoenix played the part, and think how he was as a 12 year old,
with that sweet smile, and cheery disposition.
I might try to make Guthrie become a bit more rebellious, more of a "knothead", but I fear the 'muse' will
fight me on that. LOL.
Anyway, just some thoughts and explanation.
Thank you, thank you, to my faithful reviewers and supporters! Long live the McFaddens!