The Wayward Gifted - Broken Point (9 page)

“So, you won’t do it? Is that what
you’re saying?”

“Simply this,” Steuart continued
walking around the tree. “If I’m putting myself at risk, I’m going to have to
insist on more than two or three days of compensation. That was fine in the old
days but not enough now. I don’t think so.” Steuart shook his head and walked towards
his bike.

“Wait!”

“What am I waiting for?”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Okay,” Steuart scratched his head and
frowned, “tell you what…” He bit his lip and then ran his tongue across his
teeth. He took another deep breath. “I’m willing to take the risk and lend a
hand…”

“Yes! Thank you. Let’s get started.”

“Hold on,” Steuart put his hands out.
“Don’t get excited too quickly.”

“Great, what now?”

“I know this is important to you and I
want to help.”

“So, help me already.”

“Not so fast. I would appreciate something
in return. How about making my bed for the next—three weeks.” Steuart
nodded, stood firm and repeated his demand, “Three weeks; I think that’s
appropriate compensation.”

“I should have known. I’ve spent all
this time trying to appeal to your empathetic nature when all I needed was a
bribe. Thanks little brother.” Sam put her hands against the tree and took
another look. She breathed in the colors. She felt intoxicated by the
luminescence of the sun through the trees. She looked at her brother and
frowned, “Three weeks? That’s too long. You know that.”

“Take it—or leaf it.” Steuart
chuckled.

“Take it,” Sam whispered to herself and
touched the tree again. She looked at her brother, “Okay,” she nodded, “it will
be my pleasure to make your bed for three weeks.”

Steuart shook his head. “You need to do
better than that.”

“What? How can I be nicer than that?”

“I need to hear you say:
It will be my pleasure to make your bed for
the next three weeks
. I don’t want to spend the next sixty years waiting
for payment.”

“Fine,” Sam nodded. “It will be my
pleasure to make your bed for the next three weeks. You’ve got a deal. You get
three weeks of bed making in exchange for helping me in the tree house and also
keeping our secret.”

“Okay,” Steuart stepped forward. He
walked towards the ladder and then hesitated. He turned back again and reached
for his bike.

“Now what? Stop looking at your bike. We
have a deal. I’m getting tired of standing here. Come on. There’s no reason to
hesitate.”

“We didn’t shake on it.” Steuart picked
up his bike and stood firm, “What about a month?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You want
a month?”

“Yeah, a month. I didn’t take hazard
pay into consideration when I extended my offer. This is a tall tree house.”

“No,” Sam shook her head. “Absolutely
not. No. No. No. No. No! You’re too late. You asked for three weeks. I said,
yes
. Three weeks, that includes your
hazard pay. Come on—let’s do this thing. This is simple.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure-as-Matt
.
I don’t want the color bad enough to throw in an extra week. I
should withdraw my offer. We should go home. I’m done.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. We can go home now if
you’re determined to continue this extortion. Three weeks. I’ll do it for three
weeks, but not a day over. Take it, or leave it. I don’t care at this point.”

“Of course, you do.”

Sam shook her head, “No, I don’t. I
don’t need your help. I’m seriously ready to withdraw my offer. I’ll do this
alone.” She began climbing.

Steuart followed.

* *
*

The ladder was much taller than it
appeared from the ground and much taller than anything Sam or Steuart had ever
attempted. After a climb of thirty-one rungs, Sam entered the tree house and
walked to the window. “Oh, Steuart, look at what we’ve been missing.” She took
a deep breath and leaned out. “This is so worth everything.”

Steuart looked around, “Yeah, this
place is cool.”

“It’s beautiful,” Sam clapped her
hands, “beautiful, beautiful, oh, so sweet. Look at these colors, what a
treat!”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Are we collecting
colors or writing poetry? We need to get out of here.
Snip, snip—
I said I would help you. I didn’t say I’d attend a
tea party.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Sam pulled her
scissors from her backpack, stood at the window and looked for her perfect
color. She reached to cut her leaf from the tree. Further than she estimated, Sam
had to lean far, grab a large branch and pull it in close to get at the leaf
she wanted. She leaned, strained, looked down and felt her stomach drop as she
lost contact. “I can do this,” she whispered. Again, she reached and pulled on
the branch. Again, she lost contact. The branch was huge. Sam tugged and pulled.
The branch was full of spring. She was about to snip her leaf when the branch
suddenly pulled back. Sam strained and held tight, pulling the thing close. The
branch pulled back again. Sam reached out, this time pulling harder. That’s
when the branch won, pulling her feet lifted from the floor. She was being
pulled out the window. She fought to hold the branch and stay inside.
Determined to win, Sam gasped for air and continued the fight.

Steuart jumped across the floor. He
grabbed hold of his sister’s legs and pulled back with all of his weight,
continuing until Sam’s feet were safely on the floor. The tree, refusing to
cooperate, pulled and lifted Sam’s body, this time halfway out the window.
Steuart thrust his body upward using his weight against his Sam’s, pinning her
between his body and the wall of the tree house. He wrapped one arm around
Sam’s waist as he held onto the windowsill with the other. “Let it go!” he
screamed. He felt a splinter go into his palm. “Let the branch go! I don’t know
how long I can hold you!”

Sam refused to give up. She continued
pulling at the tree, stretching with her arms and reaching with her scissors
for the leaf. “I can do this! Don’t worry!” She eyed the leaf. She looked down
at the ground. Sam’s ankles were now on the windowsill. Her knees were skinned,
but she didn’t know.

Steuart felt his feet leave the floor
and his body being pulled out the window with his sister. “Let it go, Sam!”

Crack!

The branch broke and snapped into the
window as it pushed Steuart and Sam inside, pinning them against the floor.
Steuart with his splintered hand lay underneath his sister, her bleeding knees
and the extra large branch. He shoved Sam aside and sat up, “
Hazard pay
,” he groaned, catching his
breath, “Hazard pay—above and beyond.”

“Yeah,” Sam breathed hard. “Okay,
hazard pay, no problem.”

“You could have been killed! Are you
absolutely insane? We both could have been killed.”

“I know,” Sam whispered. She held her
hand against her heart and continued trying to catch her breath. She looked at
her brother, “Steuart, you saved my life.”

“I could have been killed too. We both
could be on the ground now with all of our bones broken—totally dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam bit her lip and began
crying.

“Maybe you’ll listen to me next time
when I’m trying to tell you something.” Steuart held his palm open and pulled
out the splinter. “That was insane. I can’t believe what almost happened here.
You almost got us killed.” He shook his head slowly, “No color is worth this
much trouble—ever. I mean it.”

Eventually, Sam, still holding onto her
scissors, stopped crying. She sat up, leaned against the tree house wall and
snipped her leaf from the branch. She held it in her hands and took several
deep breaths. She closed and opened her eyes and looked for changes. Steuart
shared his mini flashlight as they gingerly held the leaf, discussing the
variation of shades and tones, examining the thing from side to side, top to
bottom and back to front. Sam smiled, “I wish I didn’t like it so much.”

“It’s magnificent,” Steuart said,
shaking his head, “But it’s not worth it.”

Sam opened her backpack and pulled out
the cabbage rose file. Gently, she slid the leaf inside between two pieces of
soft white tissue paper. “You’re right. It’s not worth what it almost cost us.
I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“What a story.”

“Too bad we can’t tell anyone.”

“It’s a true treasure. It is. I think
this is one of my all-time favorites.”

“It should be. Imagine going to all
this trouble and not getting the one you want.”

“Don’t even think that—please.”

“I’m glad that you like it considering
what could have happened.” Steuart let out a big sigh. “You owe me big on this
one.”

“I know.”

“I mean it. I’m not just talking. You
owe me big.”

“I know.”

“Imagine someone trying to explain this
to Mother:
Ms. DuBoise, your children
were located below the tree house. We are very sorry ma’am. We’re investigating
… it looks as if they both jumped. Have your children been unhappy lately?”

Sam didn’t respond. She put the folder
away and stood with Steuart. Calm now, she looked at the ground and felt her
heart race. Steuart leaned out the window. They could just barely see the river
through the trees.

Sam became lost in the moment.
“Wouldn’t it be great if this were our tree house?”

“Only if you’d promise not to kill us.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

Steuart shook his head, looked at his
sister and laughed. “
Sail your peace
.”

“Thanks,” Sam frowned. “I wasn’t trying
to get us killed.”

“I know you weren’t. I couldn’t resist.
I’d like to have a tree house too. What would we name it?”

“Name it?”

“Yeah, like the houses back home.”

“I have an idea.” Sam sat down, removed
a pen and a piece of cardboard from her backpack. “Close your eyes. Don’t
look.”

“Okay.”

She worked on a sign. “You can open
your eyes now.” She showed the cardboard to her brother.

“Sam-Steuart.
Why did you put your name first?”

“Don’t you think it sounds better that
way? Sam-Steuart.” Sam said it again.

“Not particularly, but it’s okay.”
Steuart smiled. “I like it.” He repeated the name, “Sam-Steuart.”

They said the name together three
times, “Sam-Steuart. Sam-Steuart. Sam-Steuart.”

There was a quick chill in the air. They
watched as the wind picked up and then settled.

“Right, okay. That’s fun. I like the
name, but as much as I might wish this tree house could be ours it’s not. We
should go home.”

Sam ignored her brother. She looked out
the window again.

Steuart continued, “Can we go now? It’s
getting late. Maybe we’ll see a deer. I saw a deer just after I crossed the
tracks. Maybe we’ll see a family of deer. Maybe we’ll see a sweet little baby
deer and her mother.” Steuart stopped talking when he heard the train coming.

Sam watched and listened from the
window. “That was the four o’clock...” she said, “to Chicago.” She said it as
if she had been living in Maybell her entire life. “Sam-Steuart,” she said it
again. “Too bad it’s not ours.”

“I wonder,” Steuart wrinkled his
forehead, “I wonder.”

“What?”

“Wait a minute. I just thought about
something. Close your eyes. I’ll show you in a minute.” Steuart took the
cardboard from Sam, turned it over and began working with a pen before holding
the sign up for his sister to read.

“Open your eyes. Look at this,” Steuart
showed the sign to Sam.

They read it aloud together, “
Sure-as-Matt.”
The wind picked up again.
“Sure-as-Matt,” they repeated it. Both Sam and Steuart giggled, “Sure-as-Matt.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sam said. “Why
didn’t we think of that one before?”

Steuart shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve
never thought about anagramming our names together before you made the sign.”

“I like both names,” Sam leaned out the
window.

“Don’t go anywhere!”

The weather was rapidly changing.
“Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson.” She turned to her brother, “You’re right.
It’s time to go home.” Sam packed up her things and started down the ladder
with Steuart close behind. As they began the ride home, another train passed.

“Didn’t we just hear the four o’clock
to Chicago?”

Steuart made a face. “I don’t know.
Maybe they have two.”