Rusty Summer (28 page)

Uncle Oscar comes in. He's wearing eyeliner. Even on his inner lids. He looks like a Goth dad.

He stops and looks around when he sees Beau and me looking all bludgeoned.

“Oh, dear, you must have been talking about Jason.” He looks at Frank. “Did you tell Rylee about the hunting perfume you hunters choose?”

“Omg!” both Beau and Frank groan, remembering: “Oh, yeah! That was
so
disgusting! Ugh!”

“What?!” I query, in pre-horror mode again. “What now?”

They look at each other.

“You tell her.” Uncle Frankie says.

Beau looks at me. So does Uncle Oscar, in anticipation. His eyes are dancing. Beau sighs.

“AAHHH!” Uncle Oscar and I scream, in unison. He was watching for my reaction and delightedly screams along with me, even though he totally knew what was coming.

“BUCK PISS?!” I howl, my repugnance rising with reiteration. “OMG! GROOOSS!”

“It's to disguise your scary human smell,” Frank explains, as he sees me try to make sense of the yuckiness. “It makes the other deer want to come see what's up—either to mate or fight.”

“Well! That is awful!” I inform everyone, huffily. “Gross and sneaky and just awful!”

My grandma comes out. Her eyes are lined exactly like Uncle Oscar's.

Apparently we are in the Nile valley with Grandma Cleo and Uncle Osiris. I give Beau a look, and he snorts.

My entire family is nuts.

“Muffins are done!” she says and holds up a giant purple-gray pastry, lumpily shaped like a Mandelbrot sequence. “Who wants a raisin-banana-chocolate chip-almond-oatmeal-shredded carrot-pecan-cream cheese-Cheerios-blackberry muffin, yum-yum-yum?!”

We retire to the kitchen. We eat an astronomical amount. We laugh an astronomical amount.

We re-retire to the living room. I lounge against the sofa back, beached.

When we go to bed I sleep deeply, floating in the gloaming.

 

The next morning I wake up and immediately feel thick. My head, my tongue, my sinuses, everything. Very thick. I sit up and have to cough.

And then keep coughing. Phlegmy. Yuck.

Omg, I'm dopey.

Slowly I get out of bed. I'm so slow . . . and foggy. Dang, if this is the day-after effects of weed then forget it. I don't like to be cloudy-minded.

I trudge into the kitchen and sit at the table. I drink coffee idly for fifteen minutes and the fog clears away. I'm sharp again.

Bluck! I didn't care for that part of the experience!

Oscar and GramMer and Beau rise. They don't look any worse for wear. I grimace.

“Good morning, sunshine!” sings Beau. He's all happy. GramMer and Oscar laugh at me.

They must be totally used to it. Omg, my peeps are a bunch of stoners!

I snicker. Actually, I'm feeling relieved; I finally crossed a great divide—I've tried weed! And they're right; it wasn't that big a deal. Also, I didn't really like it that much, so win-win!

We all get dressed and Uncle Oscar and I go to the hospital to hopefully bring Leo home.

 

She's awake, picking at a breakfast tray and looking much more like herself. I feel weak with relief. I practically skip in. The nurse who was watching her to make sure she eats smiles at me and gets up to go. I beam at Lee.

“Hey, baby!” I say.

“Hey, babies!” she chirps cheerfully. “I feel much better!”

“You look much better,” Uncle Oscar tells her.

They
are
going to discharge her today! I help her dress and Uncle Oscar takes care of her checkout. When he comes back she is sitting in a wheelchair, ready to go.

I squeeze his hand gratefully. Uncle Oscar is so incredibly generous.

He just paid her hospital stay, which was probably crazy expensive. Unbeknownst to us, Uncle Oscar told the hospital to spare no expense—that he would take care of whatever wasn't covered by Leo's insurance to make sure she'd have everything possible. He winks when he sees me realizing what he did.

The nurse comes in after we push the button. She has to wheel Leo out of the hospital for some random reason.

At the car, Leo stands up and I put her in the front like she's an invalid. I tuck my coat around her. Make sure the vents aren't blowing directly on her.

“Stop!” She laughs. “You look like your mom!”

I get in the backseat.

When we get home I stand beside her in case she falls as we walk up the steps. I'm afraid she's so fragile she would shatter. I stick my elbow out like a boy scout helping an old lady across the street. She wants to go sit out back on the swing so we do.

GramMer and Beau bring out some grits sprinkled with a bit of brown sugar. And some yogurt.

“You gotta eat. We have a list of recommended things to start with.”

Much to my continuing relief, she does. Not much, but some. She's trying.

 

We take a few days to recover. I am told Leonie was very lucky. We take it easy.

She has to stop dieting and eat and it's so hard for her that I have to nag her constantly. Slowly but surely, she continues to eat and soon she's acting pretty normal. Except she is still shockingly thin and weak.

We start to get ready for our return trip home. Shane calls and says the van is almost running, whatever that means. He reckons a few more days.

We've decided we won't tell Shane what happened—about the hospital and everything—since we've just met him and he might not understand all the stuff, since he doesn't know Leo's past.

Shane also told us “Greg says hi to Leo.”

That makes Leo and I look at each other sadly. Greg's so not a contender, though he is such a sweetheart. But there is no room for anyone except Shane.

We chill for a couple more days. One sunny afternoon, GramMer gets the idea to show the uncles the wild rosebushes that grow all over the hills. Also, some kind of berry that grows around here is now ripe. They bundle into the wagon and take off. Beau goes with them. I see him in the backseat and he waves to me—then obviously gets a text and is studiously looking down when they pull away. I watch them grow smaller as they drive off. I wave from the porch.

Leo and I stay home with The Bomb. We didn't feel like hiking and Leo's supposed to take it easy anyway.

We are sitting on the sofa. I am watching Discovery and Leonie is texting when my dad and Raven roll up. She runs in the house yelling, “GramMer!” and Dad walks in yelling, “Mom?”

“They're not here!” I yell, so they'll stop yelling.

“Oh. Hi, guys. Where are they?” asks Dad.

“They went to see the wild roses,” I tell him. Leo is obliviously texting.

“Really? When?”

“I dunno . . . a while ago.”

“God-dang it!! I've got a meeting and I can't take Raven. Mom said she'd watch her!”

“It's okay, we will,” offers Leo.

Oh, we will?
Suddenly Leo is all involved. She's looking at Dad with a smile. I glare at her malevolently but the damage is already done.

“Really, honey? That would be great! Would that be okay, Raven?” he asks.

“With Leonie?” Raven asks doubtfully. “Or just Rylee?” She's chewing gum.

“Both!” says Leo and holds out her arms. “We can paint your fingernails pink!”

“'Kay!” Raven's in. She runs to get the fingernail polish from our room. “Toes too!”

“Oh, this is great! Thanks, girls! I'll bring you back a treat for doing this for me!”

“Ice cream!” Raven screams. “Jolly, yummy ice cream!” She starts hopping around the room.

My dad shakes his head.

“Jolly . . . where does she get this stuff?” he chuckles in bemused adoration.

Whatever. Barf me out. Dad leaves and now it is just us four girls: me, Leo, Raven, and The Bomb.

Leo and Raven paint toenails. Raven, of course, messes hers up and has to be redone. Leo freshens up Bommy's nails. The Bomb is as gravely interested as ever. I pass.

Then Raven reads books to Leonie. Then she and Leo want to watch cartoons because nobody likes the Discovery channel except me. After a while it's so stupid I get up and go find a book.

When I come back in the living room Raven looks up from the TV briefly. Leo is asleep.

“Let her sleep, Raven. She's been sick so you be quiet, okay?” I tell her.

“'Kay.” Raven nods and chomps her gum. She's already watching cartoons again.

I go out to the kitchen. I'm hungry. I bang around opening cans and heating up some soup. Then I sit and drink it from a mug. I face the lake and watch the colors it turns as the sky goes from blue to white to gold.

As I'm washing up the cup and thinking about something fattening to tempt Leo with, I hear the front door open and shut.

“Lee?” I ask. No answer.

“Leo?” I say as I come into the living room, where she is sacked out.

Raven has put a comforter over her. She's all tucked in. That actually tickles me. She's a nurse too, apparently. But where is she?

“Raven?” I say.

No answer.

“Raven?!” No answer. “Raven!”

I start to freak a little. I open the front door. No sign of her. I look from room to room.

“Raven!!” I scream. Leo wakes up.

“Whatsamatter?” She's groggy.

“Raven! I can't find her!”

I'm panicking.

Leo struggles to get up. She's still really weak.

“No! You stay there! I'll find her!” I bellow and then hear barking. It's the Dogs of War, as I've taken to calling the pack across the lake. I head outside.

When I see what is happening my heart drops to my feet. I stand motionless on the porch trying to make sense of what I'm seeing.

A Kodiak bear. Gigantic. Waddling around in between me and Raven.

Raven's way up the driveway, near the garbage can that Dad set out to be picked up, which is probably why the bear is here too. Raven and the bear see me at the same time and Raven starts to cry. The bear turns back to her and that instant something shoves past me. I stagger. Noisily, it streaks by.

It's The Bomb! Snarling and making an unholy racket, barking like I've
never
heard her!

The bear turns from Raven and looks at Bommy like it's surprised and then rears upright on its hind legs and snarls, as massive and dark as the ancient trees that surround us. It's going to attack her! Its teeth are enormous! I scream. Raven squalls louder.

The Bomb goes crazy! Every bit of her fur is standing on end, and she looks gigantic! She redoubles her efforts, charging and darting and snapping so fast and furious now she's a blur. The bear swings and misses. Her eyes insane, Bommy charges back in, snapping her frothy jaws.

I rush inside past Leo, who is standing in the doorway wide-eyed and frozen with shock, and sprint to the gun cabinet, which is locked. Instinct takes over and I feel for the key that Dad used to leave on the top, out of reach. I unlock the cabinet and snatch a rifle. It's unloaded.

I don't know where he keeps ammo. I throw it down. Freaking useless! Omg, omg, OMG!!

I dash to the kitchen. I grab two big pots and run out, banging them and flailing and shrieking like a banshee. Diabolically dangerous for bears here!! Go AWAY!!

The bear turns around to see me. I approach behind Bommy, screaming and jumping and freaking.

The bear stands up again. The Bomb rushes in and gets a good bite, right on the ass, which only maddens the bear, but it shifts directions and backs up, roaring. Snarling like a wild thing, Bommy darts in and out of reach. The bear swings at her with its giant lethal paw and misses again, narrowly. I continue screaming insanely and Raven hangs on to the mailbox, bawling.

Again The Bomb attacks and again the bear swings—I realize Bommy is making the bear back up, away from Raven, with every passing second.

The Bomb looks terrifying; she is huge. Her eyes are red and rabid. Her lips are completely pulled back from her bloody teeth, and her fur is standing on end. She looks like a Dire wolf. Her snarls resound, savage and deranged. She circles the bear rapidly and attacks again.

This time the bear is ready. It smacks The Bomb so hard she hurdles through the air. I scream hysterically but The Bomb is up immediately—and flies back into the fray. I pound the pots in a mad chaotic cacophony.

We scream and snarl insanely, and, abruptly—the bear runs off.

We stand, panting.

It's suddenly silent.

Except for Raven. I see her shuddering convulsively, completely terrified.

I try to calm myself down so I can soothe her. I hold out my arms.

“Come 'ere, honey,” I say gently. My voice shakes. She runs to me, sobbing and panic-stricken.

I kneel down and wrap my arms around her in a huge hug. I won't say bear hug. We stay that way for a long time. Her little limbs tremble. I just rock and hug her. We try to revive.

After clinging to me like I was a buoy, Raven pulls back and looks at me. I soggily smile at her. Maybe for the first time, on purpose, as my sister.

“Rylee . . . do you like me now?” she quavers, tentatively. She sniffles. Her little chin quivers.

I sob-laugh.

“Yeah, honey,” I say, and start crying, “I like you . . . I
really
like you.” I hug her again.

The Bomb comes up and snuggles us. She is whimpering. I put my arm around her too, and pull back abruptly. The Bomb's side is covered with blood! She's trembling too.