The Mason List (8 page)

“I bet he
has shrunken heads or something.”

“Maybe
I’ll just tie you up in there one night.  See if they come alive.  They might
bite you.”  His fingers pinched my sides.  “Eat your toes for supper.”

“Jessup
Mason!”  I gasped at him.  He laughed so hard I felt his body shaking the
horse.  “Stop it.  We’re gonna fall off.”

“Ok, I’m
sorry.” 

“You
think BB will come back?”    

“She’ll
find her way back.  Hope it’s fast though before Uncle Frank finds out.”  He
stayed quiet for about twenty seconds and then asked sweetly, “
Sooo
, you
willin’ to try horse ridin’ again?”

“I don’t
know.”  The sway of riding on Clive was nice but not enough to try it again
alone.  “Maybe I should stick to just petting animals.”

“You can
pet BB.  I won’t try to make ya ride her again.”

“I was thinking
more about one of the dogs in the barn.” 

“You like
dogs?”

“Yeah, I
use to have one of my own.  Before we came to Arlis.  His name was Digger.”

“Why
didn’t ya bring it?”

 “He
couldn’t come with us.  Dad didn’t know where we were staying, so I left him
with our neighbor.”

“We
should go get ‘im now.  Why haven’t you?” 

“I asked
my dad about Digger after we got moved into the ranch house.  He said Digger
got sick or something.  He died not long after we left.  I guess it was the
truth.  Our neighbor didn’t like him much.  He probably just didn’t take care
of him and Digger got ran over,” I shrugged.  “I thought about it some.  Not
knowing the truth.  But I figured he was dead either way.” 

“Why
didn’t ya tell me your dog died?”

“I don’t
know,” I muttered.

“I’d be
real sad if I lost BB and Clive.” 

The loss
of Digger was a story that should bring a child to tears.  I spat out the words
in a flat tone knowing it was easier to feel nothing than something.  Digger
was from another time and another place that existed before Arlis.  “I don’t
cry, Jess.”

“Not even
when you’re by yourself?”

“No.”

“Oh.” 
His voice seemed strange.  Sitting in front of Jess, I couldn’t see his face to
read what he really was thinking.  “I’m sorry ‘bout Digger.”

“It’s
ok.  He had nothing to do with here anyway.”

Picturing
his mangled and bloody body, I bit down hard on my lip and tasted the metallic
salt on my tongue.  Digger was in the ground now, the same as my mother.  Deep
down in the dirt with the bugs. 

Jess and
I rode the rest of the way, hearing only the sounds of the meadow and an
occasional snort from Clive.  Deep thoughts circled around in my mind.  I
trusted Jess.  My trust let him cut my hand to seal our friendship in blood.  I
really wanted to mean it as much as that blue-eyed boy.  I wanted to find a way
to keep him forever, but the idea of forever just felt impossible.

We
returned to the stables and Jess called his father.  Dr. Mason looked over my
ankle and determined it was a bad sprain.  After two days of searching, Uncle
Frank found Blue Bonnet and turned five shades of red, yelling at Jess.  He got
a list of chores a mile long to remind him of the responsibilities when having
a horse since he’d apparently forgotten.  I promised Jess to help after my
ankle could stand the pressure.  After all, we swore in blood.

A week,
after the horse incident, my ankle held enough weight to help Jess out in the
barns.  I was getting ready when a faint knock echoed off the wooden door in
the living room.  I found Jess on the other side.

“I
thought I would meet you at the barn,” I said, confused.

“I know. 
But I got a surprise for you.”  He got all fidgety with excitement, making the
words slurring together   He handed over a box with a lid on top.  “Open it.”

I pulled
the flaps back and peered inside the present.  A set of green eyes stared back
from an orange, furry face.

“You got
me a kitten?”  I said, pulling the little body from the box.

“I found
her this mornin’ out in one of the sheds.  I know she’s not a dog, but I kind
of liked her.” 

“She’s
really mine?” I asked, rubbing the soft fur against my check.  I heard a small
purr come from deep in the little kitten’s throat.

“If you
want her.  I, um, thought maybe you’d forgive me.  I’m sorry I got you hurt.”

“I wasn’t
really mad at you.”

“No?”

“No.”  I
smiled, rubbing the orange fur on my cheek again.  “She’s really awesome. 
Thank you, Jess.  I really mean it.  What’s her name?”

“I
thought ‘bout Carrot since you know, she’s got your orange hair.”

“I don’t
have
orange hair
!”

“Whatever,”
he said back with a wicked grin.  “
Pumpkin
.” 

“I’m
going to choke you, Jess Mason!”

“You can
kill me down in the stables.  Come on.  We gotta go.  Get your ugly shoes on,”
Jess laughed straight in my face.  I stared at him a few minutes, trying to
give the worse possible glare to that dang boy.  I would knock him in the head
one of these days.

I handed
the little orange ball of fur over and walked back to my bedroom. 
Carrot.
 
It was a stupid name, but I liked it. 
Typical Jess.
  I laughed to
myself.  Sweet with a gift and then ornery with the delivery.

Carrot
wasn’t the only thing that came from our horse riding incident.  Mrs. Mason
said I needed real lessons if I planned to ride at the ranch.  I worked with a
trainer twice a week.  It was a little difficult the first few classes since I
refused to get on a horse.  As the weeks passed, I learned to not be afraid and
formed a level of control that could have stopped Blue Bonnet on that wild
afternoon racing across the meadow.  I convinced my father I was truly thankful
to the Masons’ for the lessons.  Deep down, the contempt remained, as it was
just another item penciled onto the never-ending Mason List.

Chapter 13

Today,
10:35 p.m.

The
meadow fades away in my dreams.  I wake again on the soft pillow.  The warmth
seeps into my skin, flooding me with comfort.  I reach up to scratch my nose,
but my wrist holds tight in the restraint.  The damn thing still has me
captive.

“Your dad
should be back soon with the doctor.”

I jerk,
realizing my head is cradled in the lap of the beauty queen.  “You’re still
here?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Your dad
asked me to stay.”

“Oh.”

Her
fingers brush through my red hair like I am a child.  The motion feels soothing
even if I am dead on the inside. 

“He wants
me to help clean you up when they take these off.”  She smiles again.  “Would
you be ok with that?”

“I…I…don’t
know.”

“They’re
bringin’ you some clothes.  I can help rinse you off in the shower and put ‘em
on.”

“They?”

“I don’t
know.  Your dad didn’t say.”

I forgot
my clothes were still the same.  The same white shirt and jeans caked in dirt
and vomit and blood.   The red liquid soaked into everything and dried a solid
black.  The images flash again; vivid pictures captured in my head forever.  My
fingers twitch into a fist and my teeth bite down hard into my skin.  I can’t
breathe.  I want to curl into a ball but the ankle clasps make my body thrash
against the mattress.

“Take a
deep breath, Alex.  It’s ok.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  It’s goin’ to be ok.”

“No…”

“You have
to be calm when the doctor comes or he won’t take them off.”

“I want…I
want,” the air comes in jagged gulps, “to see Dr. Mason.”

“Breathe.” 
She rubs a hand against my arm.  “Breathe.”

I cry.  I
cry ugly tears that shake my whole body.  Nothing in my life will ever feel as
painful as today.  I feel alone.  I feel hollow.  The beauty queen curls her
small body around my tall frame as I cry snotty tears into her pretty hair.  At
this rate, they would keep me all night.  My eyes close and my thoughts swirl
back to the memories of the last time I slept in the Arlis hospital.

Chapter 14

When
I was twelve…

I was
bored out of my mind after a brutal two days stuck in the farmhouse.  The sky
had drizzled freezing rain all night, which turned into snow toward morning. 
Storm
of the century
, according to every resident who purchased shovels and
chains from the hardware store.

The
living room held six new drawings from the last two days of confinement.  I was
officially out of ideas and needed something else to occupy my time.  Jess
called a little after lunch.  He wanted to pick me up on his four-wheeler to go
back to his house and watch movies.  As it turned out, Jess promised his mother
he would stay at my house until the snow stopped blowing.  Double cover for his
stupid idea.  If only he’d told me of his little plan, I would have dressed
better.

My skin
turned to ice as we bounced deep into the meadow on his four-wheeler.  Jess
punched the gas, hitting another drift.  My arms clenched tighter around his
waist in a vice grip.  I wore only a small jacket and pair of fancy gloves that
were Christmas presents from the Masons.  Without layers, the frigid air
slapped me in the face.  I buried my frozen nose into Jess's back to keep my
eyes from freezing shut.

“Where
are we going?” I shouted the words over the sound of the four-wheeler.

“We’re
almost there,” he yelled over his shoulder.  “It’ll be warm in the house.” 

“What
house?” I pulled my face free to look around the area.  Over the last four
years, Jess dragged me all over Sprayberry into every nook and cranny except
Uncle Frank’s place.  Nobody ventured inside the spook house except the man
himself.

“Up
there,” Jess motioned to the trees.  

Peering
through the thick snow, I saw the outline of what resembled the wooden boards
of a treehouse. “You decided today was best time to take me here?  In a
blizzard?”

“I know,
right?  It’s gonna be so cool.”

“Are you
insane?”  My breath formed each word in the cold air.  “We have to go back. 
It’s snowing harder.”  

“Come
on.” He jumped out of the seat and stomped through the snow to the tall oak. 

“Jess…we
can’t.” 

He met my
protest with a giant snowball, which smacked me in the chest.  I formed one of
my own and ran through the tall drifts to shove it down the back of his shirt. 
Jess spun around and put me in a head lock.  His free arm grabbed a wad of ice,
twisting it against my neck.

“Mercy!”
I screamed.

“You
goin’ up?”

“Yes! 
Ok!  Yes!  Now let me go!” 

He
loosened his arms.  “I promise.  We won’t stay long.”

“You
drive me crazy.”

“I know,”
Jess grinned, as the snow gathered on his long eyelashes. 

As we
reached the back side of the tree, I saw a ladder built into the trunk, leading
up to a landing platform.  “You go first and I’ll come up behind to make sure
you don’t slip.”

I felt
nervous, climbing the tree that towered about three times higher than mine back
in Dallas.  My gloves stuck to the icy rungs while I took each step with Jess
right behind me.  We stopped at the landing platform, about forty feet off the
ground.   Jess reached around to unlatch the door.  

It felt
warmer inside the house without the wind pelting us with snow.  In all the
years living on the ranch, today marked the first time Jess ever brought me to
his secret tree house.  Two large windows sat on the back side, flooding the
house with light.  A Texas Rangers banner covered one wall while the other side
was lined with hooks, holding various ropes and gadgets from the ranch.  In the
corner, a shotgun leaned against a metal tub filled with old toys.

“How
often do you come out here?” I asked, looking at a shelf of jars that circled
just below the ceiling.

“I don’t
know.”

“You
build it?”

“Not
really.  The Jessups haven’t always owned the whole ranch.  I found the house
and showed it to my dad.  We fixed it up.  That’s why you can still use it. 
Mother hates the whole thing.”

“That
sounds about right.”  I pointed up toward the shelf.  “So why all the jars?”

“Spider
collection.”

“You
serious?” 

“Yeah,
but that was a few years ago.  They’re all empty now.”  Jess pulled me by the
arm over to the window.  “Come on, you need to see this.”

The view
from the tree house left me speechless.  A whimsical display of snow coated the
sky, swirling down in the air.   Instantly, I knew why someone picked this tree
for the house.  The tall oak rested on a small hill, with a view that went for
miles and miles.

Jess
pulled out a large blanket to wrap around us while we watched the snow.  The
musty fabric blocked out very little of the cold air.   Shivering, I scooted as
close as I could to him, trying to get warm.

“You were
right.  It’s amazing,” I said, hypnotized by the millions of sparkling flakes. 
“I haven’t been up in a tree since back home.”

“Before
you came here?”

“Yeah.”

“What was
it like back then?”

“The end
was a lot like what you saw, I guess.  But, it was different before she got
sick.  We still had our house.”

“What’d
you do for fun?”

A smile
crept over the corners of my lips with the memories of another time, another
place.  “We had this garden.  I spent a lot of time climbing the trees and I
wore princess dresses.”

“You’re
lyin’. 
You
…in a princess dress?”

“It’s
true.  I had several of them covered in jewels.  I had a crown and wand too. 
Sometimes, I even liked to pretend that I was fairy princess with magical
powers.”

“That’s
‘bout the funniest thing you’ve ever said,” Jess busted out laughing.

“What? 
You don’t think I could wear a tiara?”  I moved my fingers into a makeshift
crown right on top of my head. 

He
laughed even harder.  I liked to watch Jess when he got twisted up half silly. 
His face got lost in the moment, so carefree with nothing holding him back.  I
watched until it became contagious.  My lips busted open in a gush of laugher,
making me fall over backwards against the hard boards.  Jess peered down at me
with a funny smile.

“What?” 
I asked rolling my eyes.

“I like
it when you laugh like that.  You sound happy,” he shrugged.  “Makes me wish
I’d known you back then.”

“Oh,” I
whispered, imagining the sad idea of the impossible.  Jess without the tragedy
of death.  Jess without the Masons paying for my very existence. 

My
laughter faded into a frown.  Sitting up, I looked out the window.  The storm
got worse as we sat in the house.  A stab of fear traveled through my skin, seeing
the meadow lost under the mounds of thick snow.

“Jess, we
probably should go.”

“Crap,
it’s startin’ to look bad.”

I wanted
to say, it looked
bad
when we arrived, but that was beside the point. 
We rushed down the ladder, only to find the four-wheeler wedged in a snow pile
under the trees.  Jess tried to go forward but the rubber tires spun under the
drift.  The whole machine vibrated as the motor grinded with a strange noise.

We
climbed off and tried to dig it out.  My numb fingers hurt under the wet
gloves.  “Do you have anything up in the house we could put under the tires?” 

“I don’t
think so,” Jess muttered.  His eyebrows scrunched up as he stared at the
four-wheeler.  “This ain’t workin’.  I think we should just stay up there. 
It’ll be worse to get the four-wheeler goin’ and get stranded.  I think
somethin’s wrong with the motor.” 

“How are
we going to stay warm?  It’s not much better in the house.”  My voice betrayed
what I was feeling.  The cold air slapped me in the face.  The once magical flakes
turned into chaotic weapons.

Panic
crept into my thoughts.  Jess and I both had lied.  My father thought I went to
the Masons.  His parents assumed Jess sat tucked away at the farmhouse.  They
had no idea where to even look.  Horrible thoughts of our frozen bodies spun
through my mind.  Our faces black with oozing parts that burst in the snow.  We
would die.

I felt
sick to my stomach.  Taking in a deep breath, my lungs hurt feeling the bitter
air.  Jess came over and placed a hand on each of my shoulders.   His black
hair fell out of his stocking hat and froze to his forehead.

“It’s
goin’ to be ok.  I promise.”  The bright eyes lacked his ever present
confidence.  “I got an idea that might buy us some time.  That old tub up there
is metal.  We could build a fire in it.”

“The
treehouse will just fill with smoke.” I muttered, feeling another chilly blast
hit my backside.  The storm continued to attack from all directions.

“We could
crack the windows?”

“I…guess.”

“See, we
got a plan,” he grinned, trying to look positive. 

Jess and
I used an old rope to pull the limbs to the platform.  He dumped the toy trucks
out of the tub and broke the branches down to fit inside it.  I cracked the two
windows while he dug around for a package of matches.  We tore up an old box,
trying to get the wet limbs to catch fire.  After what felt like the hundredth
try with the matches, a few embers burned in the old toy bin. 

I pulled
off my gloves, holding my hands over the fire.  It wasn’t a body-warming heat,
but it was better than nothing at all.  My lungs burned from black cloud that
hovered in the house.  Staring into the flames, the fire lulled Jess into a
trance.  I wanted to ask how long he thought it would take for them to find us,
but his slumped shoulders told me the answer.  This was really bad.

The boy,
normally full of endless smiles and words, said nothing as time ticked by in
the house.  Our fire burned lower and daylight faded.  Jess added more sticks
to the bin.  Smoke billowed out around us as we huddled together under the
musty blanket. 

“What
kind of spiders?”  I asked, hearing my voice against the quiet. 

“Huh?”

“In the
jars.  What kind did you have?”

“Oh,
brown ones,” he muttered.

“Were
they poisonous?”

“I don’t
know.  I had to catch bugs for ‘em.  They ate too much.  Most just shriveled up
and died.”

“Oh,” I
paused, glancing over at his sad face. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?” 
His blue eyes never even looked in my direction.

“Why
haven’t you brought me out here before?”

“I don’t
know.”  His shoulders shrugged next to me.  “It’s always been like my place. 
My thinkin’ spot away from everyone.”

“You’ve
never talked about it.” 

“I don’t
know how to explain it without soundin’ like some boy with a fort and a ‘No
Girls Allowed’ sign.”

“You
didn’t show me because I was a girl?” I shook my head trying not to smirk.

“You
think it’s funny?”

“No, I
think it sounds nice having your own place.  But why’d you finally show it to
me?”

He
contemplated the question for a moment.  “I was sittin’ in the house and wanted
to escape.  Every time I want to get away, I think of this place.  I always
come up in the summer.  I’d never been in the snow and I wanted you to see it
too.  I wanted you to see my favorite place.”

He
shared his favorite place with me.
 
The admission burned in my chest; a painful combination of friendship and the
Masons always giving something to me.   I wasn’t sure what to say back to him. 
“You don’t have to share everything with me.”

“I know,
but I want to.”  His sincere blue eyes spoke more than the words. 

“What
were you escaping by coming to the treehouse?”

“It’s
before you came to live here,” he said quietly.

“You were
like eight.”

“I know,
it’s stupid,” he paused, letting out a deep breath.  “Parents wanted their kids
to be friends with me, you know, to have a way in with my family.  They were
always just droppin’ in at the house.  They’d act stupid.  All of it just to
have connections with my parents.  I hated it.  I’d leave when they came over
and sneak out here.  It lasted for a while then ya’ll came to Sprayberry.”

“What
difference did that make?”

“Everythin’.” 
The embarrassment reflected bright on his cheeks in the light of the flames. 
“You’re different from all of ‘em.  I didn’t need to hide out anymore.  I had
you.” 

“Oh,” I
whispered, hearing his answer that wasn’t really an answer.  This wasn’t news
about his family.  I had lived in Arlis long enough to witness the dynamics. 
People wanted to use the Masons.  With power, came the great burden to
distinguish real friendships from those who wanted to coat tail on another’s
pot of gold, or in their case, oil.