Paint the Wind (7 page)

A
BOY DOUBLED OVER WITH LAUGHTER
. “O
H, THAT
was so funny.…” He staggered around, giggling and pointing at her. “Look at you! You're covered in mud! Oh, that was great. That was just great.” He dropped to the ground and rolled over. “I'm laughing so hard I'm crying.” Slowly, he lifted himself, sighed, and wiped the tears from his dark blue eyes. “Hey. I'm Payton.”

Maya spit damp grass from her mouth and swiped at her backside. So this was her cousin. She'd only been around Payton for one minute but could already tell he was an annoying nuisance, and she didn't like him. Maya narrowed her eyes and took a long, hard look at him. He was full-faced with deep dimples in both cheeks, shorter than Maya but not much, and sturdy. Bits of grass stuck
in his blond hair, which was tousled from his hysterics. He wore jeans, boots, and a sweatshirt that read COWBOY UP! She turned and marched back toward the campsite.

He hurried behind her. “Hey! I
said
, ‘I'm Payton!' Aren't you going to answer me? Where're your manners? Don't they have manners where you come from? Because it's not polite not to say hello.”

Maya kept walking.

He ran to keep up, then turned, running backward alongside of her. “It was just some firecrackers. And they didn't make
that
much noise. No one can even hear them this far away from camp. Oh, I know. You're going to tell on me, aren't you? I knew you were a snitch the minute I saw you get out of the truck. That's all I need is a stupid girl out here who's a tattletale.” His voice rose in pretend mockery. “
 
‘Aunt Vi, Aunt Vi, that mean boy threw
a firecracker at me.' That would be the disgusting worst.” He finally turned around, darted ahead, and then circled back to keep pace with her. Maya had never seen anyone so unsettled and who jigged around so much. Before she reached the campsite, he finally stopped following her and veered toward the corrals. Good, she thought. The farther away, the better.

She walked to the truck, retrieved her suitcase and her box of horses, and went to her tepee. Once inside, she secured the flaps.

The tent smelled stale and was empty except for a thick foam cushion on the canvas floor, a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a stack of clothes. Maya unfolded two kerchiefs, a quilted vest, several pairs of shorts and jeans, and a few T-shirts. The clothes weren't new, but as she held them to her body, they seemed the right size.
She lifted the windbreaker-style jacket against her chest. It was much too big, but when she saw her mother's name written on the label, she didn't care. And even though she wasn't cold, she put it on, stroked the sleeves, and wondered if the other clothes had once belonged to her mother, too. Maya looked around the tiny cone-shaped room, took a deep breath, and thought of Grandmother. She would have been so appalled by the conditions. But Maya's mother had wanted this for her, and her father had agreed. There must be something wonderful here. She tied up the square window flap, retrieved several toy horses, and stood at the mesh screen looking out. Holding a horse figure to the portal, she whispered, “What's so special about this place?”

They ate around the fire: corn and chicken, fruit and potatoes. Moose and Fig washed the dishes in a big tub with water from the river that had been heated in a giant kettle while Aunt Vi wiped down the pantry. As the sun dipped behind the horizon, the sky smeared pink and orange and blue. Maya faced Payton, who sat across the fire, fiddling with a feather in his hand.

“I collect feathers. This is a magpie's. At home I have about fifty different ones. So if you see any, let me know and I'll tell you if I already have it or not.”

Maya stared into the fire.

“By the way, ever ridden a horse?”

Maya glanced back. Fig and Moose and Aunt Vi were still occupied. “Sure,” said Maya. “Lots of times.”

“I've been riding since I was a kid,” said Payton. “I've
got two horses at home and I've won all sorts of ribbons in juniors for barrel racing. Ever gone camping?”

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Actually, I went to summer camp every year at Big Bear Lake. It was perfectly fun during the day with all the great activities, like swimming and crafts and hiking. We slept in tents until the bear came.…”

“A bear?” Payton leaned forward.

“Yes. A bear came into our camp in the middle of the night and ate all of our food and then totally destroyed the camp leader's tent. It's an absolute miracle he survived because the bear claws entirely ripped through the canvas. After that, they moved us to cabins.”

“Wow. I guess that's why they call it Big Bear Lake, huh? I camp here every summer but we don't usually see
bears. There are mountain lions around in the foothills looking for mule deer or pronghorn. When they find one, they follow it and then kill it, and try to hide it so they can come back and eat again later. By the way, ever felt any earthquakes? Because I hear they have them every couple of months where you live.”

Maya forced a smile. “Actually, we have them every couple of
days
. We have to bolt down absolutely everything in the house or it just jiggles everywhere. And we have railings, so if you're walking down a street and there's an earthquake, you'll have something to grab on to. Once, I was upstairs and we had an earthquake and by the time it was over, it had tossed me all the way downstairs. It's extremely exciting and tremendously dangerous.”

“Really? Do you … do you have to miss school?”

“Oh, sure. Because the classrooms are entirely in
shambles after an earthquake and we have to wait until they're cleaned up. Every year in June we have to make up all the days we missed for earthquakes. You know, earthquake days.”

“Just like us making up snow days. Did you ever get hurt from one?”

Before she could answer, Aunt Vi, Fig, and Moose reassembled in their chairs with their coffee.

“What are you two talking about?” asked Vi.

“Maya was telling me about earthquakes,” said Payton.

“You ever felt one?” asked Moose.

“Not really,” said Maya.

Payton lurched forward in his chair. “But you just said —”

Maya interrupted him. “Grandmother told me that I slept through one once, but it didn't do any damage.”

Aunt Vi glanced from Maya to Payton. “Okay then. Payton, how about running to my tent for my guitar?”

“Gladly,” said Payton, giving Maya a mean smirk and nudging her chair as he walked by.

“Hurry back, Payton,” called Moose. He turned to Aunt Vi. “Who would you like me to bell and hobble tonight?”

“Not Wilson,” said Aunt Vi. “But Seltzer and Catlin could use a night out.”

“What's bell and hobble?” asked Maya.

“I let a couple of horses out each night to graze around the campsite,” said Aunt Vi. “I hobble them with a loose strap around their front legs so they can only take small steps. They can still get around pretty well but not too far. I put a cowbell on them, so we know where they are and
because, to tell the truth, I like the sound. It's sort of reassuring to hear those clinks and clangs at night”

“What's the story on Wilson? Why's he separated from the rest?” asked Fig.

“He does this every summer when I first bring him out. I had him with the others for a few days, but when I try to take another horse through the gate, he is right there trying to edge through. Yesterday, he squeezed by and made it a mile before I caught him. I'll keep him separated until he gets used to his new surroundings and I can trust him not to take off. If he were hobbled, he'd just keep going all night and there's no telling where he'd be in the morning. Payton is going to have to keep that gate latched or Wilson might end up in California.”

Payton returned, toting a black case and a songbook.

From the moment Aunt Vi opened the case and pulled out the burnished guitar, everything about her changed. As she tuned it, she became subdued and dreamy-eyed. She strummed and hummed, warming up her voice, then flipped through the book until she decided on a page. “Here's a song for Maya. It was Ellie's favorite.” Her voice was round and smooth and she sang slowly, her words filled with melancholy.

Maya heard a sniffle from Moose. She stole a quick glance at him and saw that he had pulled out his handkerchief. She knew how he felt. During Aunt Vi's song she had bitten her lip hard to keep her own longing for her mother at bay.

Aunt Vi turned a few pages in the book and started another song. She crooned about lost loves and people dying and lonesome trails. The tunes fit the mood, with the smoldering embers in the campfire and the encompassing quiet and the enormous darkening sky.

When she finished, even Payton seemed calmer. “Promise you'll sing every night, Aunt Vi?”

“I'll do my best, Payton.” She looked at Maya. “I
tinker with the strings every evening. But when I'm heart-heavy, I only strum and can't bring myself to sing. There were a few years after your mother … when there was no singing.” Aunt Vi busied herself with putting away the guitar.

Fig stood and stretched. Golly did the same. “It's about that time … Moose and I will be leaving early, Maya, so I'll see you in a few weeks. Have fun on Seltzer, your
Equus caballus
. Payton, I'm feeling a little scared-y. You'd better sleep in with me tonight.”

Payton grinned and nodded.

“Good night, everyone. C'mon, Golly.” Uncle Fig and his dog headed toward the river.

Moose stirred out the embers. “Vi, I'll take care of the horses.” As he passed Maya's chair on his way to the corrals, he touched the top of her head and said,
“I never thought it would happen … you being on the Sweetwater with us. And I sure hate to leave you so soon. But we'll be back before you notice. Good night, Maya-bird. You don't mind if I call you that, do you?” She shook her head, not minding at all.

“Well … okay then. I'm off to sleep.” He disappeared in the darkness.

Aunt Vi pointed out where everyone slept. Moose, Fig, and Payton's tepees stood closest to the river; Aunt Vi's was in a clearing beyond the campfire; Maya's was farther away still. “If you need anything, just holler and I'll come running. In the morning, if I'm not in camp, get yourself some breakfast. The oatmeal will be on the warming grate over the fire. Then meet me up at the corrals. And Maya, Moose is right. We've missed you and we're very glad you're here.”

Payton jumped up from his chair and, in his haste, knocked it over along with the one next to it. He quickly righted them and ran off, calling back, “Good night, Aunt Vi.”

“Good night, Payton,” she answered. Then more quietly, “That boy needs a big field and a bucking bronco to wear him out. Maya, I guess you can see that Payton's a bit of a tumbleweed. I'm not sure who looks forward to summertime more—Payton or his family.” She handed Maya a flashlight. “Sleep tight, now.”

“Thank you,” said Maya, watching Aunt Vi walk away. She turned toward her tent and wished it wasn't so far from the others. She took tentative steps, following the beam of light. The darkness surrounded her. She tried to convince herself that there was a peacefulness about it, but Grandmother's stories about children disappearing in
the night weaseled through. A shadow shifted. A willow branch snapped. She sensed a large presence nearby.

A low growl rumbled from the bushes.

She froze and gasped and swung the flashlight but could see nothing. Something thudded in front of her and then behind. She spun and finally shined the flashlight on the grinning Payton.

“Scare you?”

Maya gritted her teeth and marched around him toward her tepee.

He called after her in his fake voice, “Everyone's so happy you're here.… Maya this, Maya that … Just so you know, I'm
not
happy you're here.”

Maya slipped into her tepee, tied all the flap ribbons, took off her boots, and crawled into her sleeping bag, fully dressed. She turned off her flashlight.

A creature wriggled across her legs! She jerked and tried to pull away. But it seemed to be everywhere at once. Maya jumped up and tripped from the confines of the mummy-like sleeping bag. As she struggled on the floor of the tent, tiny cold feet ran across her hand. She screamed, “Aunt Vi!”

When Aunt Vi finally untied the ribbons and forced her way inside the tent, she found Maya sitting motionless and shining her flashlight on a tiny mouse in the corner of the tepee.