Kitewell Page 7

  The ruby turned scarlet again.

  “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

  “He didn’t do a nice thing.”

  “Just let Daddy take care of this, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said with a nod. She continued to caress what remained of Nighthawk.

  Mark left the room without catching what she said as he closed the door behind him. He felt that this was overblown. He was irritated that he had been worked up for nothing when he thought some crazed lunatic was inside the house.

  He went into the kitchen, washed his hands, and then drank a glass of milk. He began to reconsider his daughter’s plea to make Bram pay, as she put it. He couldn’t get over the fact that Bram had made confetti out of her doll horse when he had wanted her to get rid of it for a while. Besides, it was old and stinky.

  Hemlock entered the house with a couple of bags of groceries in her arms. Mark helped her with the bags and brought them to the kitchen. Together, they unpacked the groceries. She noticed that he was quieter than usual.

  “What’s wrong?” Hemlock asked as she put a gallon of milk in the fridge.

  “It’s Beanie,” he said.

  “What happened?”

  He wasn’t going to mention the story that Beanie told him when she arrived from school. Hemlock wouldn’t believe it anyway.

  “Nighthawk,” he said in a low voice. “Bram killed it.”

  She froze. “Killed it?”

  “He cut Nighthawk up into confetti.”

  Hemlock seemed to relax a little. “Oh. Well, just get her a new one.”

  “If only it were that easy. Beanie is bawling her eyes out right now. She’s crying like he killed a real horse. She wants Bram to pay for it.”

  “Beanie has had Nighthawk since she was five,” Hemlock said with a sigh. “I told her that she needed to get rid of it. We couldn’t let her cling to it like a toddler, could we?”

  “What about Bram?” he said.

  “I’ll talk with him after baseball practice,” she said.

  “No. I’ll talk to him as soon as I pick him up.”

  Mark grabbed the keys off the hanger.

  “Right now?” she said.

  “Right now.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No.”

  Mark went to the front door.

  “There’s something else,” Mark said as if he had something pressing on his mind. “Her ring. It … I swear, I saw it glow.”

  “Her ring?”

  “The ruby ring she has. The one she said that Ariel gave her.”

  “Yes. I saw it this morning. She told me the same thing. But what do you mean it glowed?”

  “I … I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

  He unlocked the door.

  “Please don’t make a scene,” Hemlock said.

  “Are you coming?”

  “No. I’ll go upstairs and talk with Beanie. Is she calm?”

  “What do you think?”

  Hemlock frowned. “Just don’t talk about it with Bram until you guys get home. It might make things worse between them. They haven’t gotten along since … I can’t even remember.”

  “He knows what he’s done, Hemlock. He’ll know what it’s about when I get to the diamond a half-hour before practice ends.”

  “Just don’t make a scene.”

  Mark kissed her and then opened the front door.

  “Promise me you won’t make a scene,” Hemlock said.

  He nodded before he closed the door behind him.

  Chapter 12

  Bram played with his beef stroganoff with his fork. He had only taken a single bite since he had sat down at the dinner table. Hemlock and Mark eyed each other with mutual agitation. Mark had lectured him in the car despite Hemlock’s caution. That made things worse when Bram got home early from baseball practice. His blood was boiling at that point and he talked back to his parents in his rebellious thirteen-year-old way.

  Whatever, he said, when they asked him to apologize to Beanie.

  Bram refused to apologize.

  So they grounded him from going to the Braves game that weekend, which set Bram off the rails. His face turned beet red as he hurled insults at them. They left his room and told him to stay there until he was calm enough to have dinner downstairs.

  That was twenty minutes ago.

  “Why don’t you eat?” Hemlock said to Bram.

  Bram didn’t answer.

  “Come on,” Mark said. “Your food is getting cold.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Bram said.

  He hadn’t looked his parents in the eye since dinner started.

  At that moment, Beanie came downstairs, humming a singsong tune. She had heard the argument earlier through the walls of her room. As soon as she heard that Bram was grounded from going to the Braves game, she felt as happy as can be.

  “Yum. Smells good,” Beanie said. “Beef stroganoff is my favorite. You’re the best, Mommy. The best.”

  “Shut up, sis,” Bram snapped.

  “Bram!” Hemlock cried.

  “Beanie deserved it. She’d been talking to her stupid horse, you know. I’m glad it’s dead. She would’ve gone crazy.”

  “Don’t be rude to your sister,” Mark said. “Apologize to her now.”

  “She started it,” Bram said.

  “He’s lying,” Beanie interjected. “Bram started it first. He killed Nighthawk.”

  “So? You got me grounded, you idiot,” Bram retorted.

  “You deserved it.”

  “And Nighthawk deserved to die.”

  “You’re the meanest brother ever.”

  “You’re the dumbest sister ever.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I hate you more.”

  “Stupid boy.”

  “Schizoid girl.”

  “Fart face.”

  “Weirdo.”

  “Doo-doo head.”

  “Idiot!”

  Suddenly, Bram dropped his fork on the table with an “ouch.”

  “What the heck,” he grunted. “It burnt me.”

  His thumb and finger were pink from the scalding metallic fork.

  “That’s enough!” Hemlock blared. “Why do you two always fight? You need to stop calling each other names.”

  “He started it,” Beanie cried.

  “No, she started it,” Bram said.

  “Liar!”

  “Am not!”

  “Yes you are. You’re a devilish liar, Bram!”

  “Beanie!” Mark snapped.

  She flushed red and then pouted.

  “And Bram, you’re her older brother. She’s ten. You’re thirteen. Act your age. Show some respect. Be an example to your sister.”

  “She’s so annoying, Dad. How can you stand her?”

  “That’s enough, Bram,” Mark said coarsely.

  “You used to be on my side, Dad. Why are you on her side all of a sudden?”

  “This has gone far enough. Eat your food and—”

  “Listen to how she talks. She talks like a five-year-old brat. She’s an idiot.”

  “I’ll have you wash your mouth with soap if you say that again,” Hemlock said. “Do you hear me?”

  Hemlock hadn’t been this stern with Bram since he put his red baseball cap in with the whites in the washer. Her favorite dress was in there, the one that cost her an arm and a leg.

  “Whatever,” Bram said, rising from the chair. He took his plate with him and whisked the beef stroganoff into the trash. Then he tossed the dish in the sink with a clink and went upstairs to his room. He slammed the door.

  “I hate him,” Beanie said acridly.

  “Beanie,” Hemlock said.

  “I wish he wasn�
�t even born.”

  “He’s your brother. You shouldn’t ever say that.”

  “I don’t care if he is. He’s the most awful, horrible, meanest person ever.”

  Hemlock sighed. “Enough, Beanie. Just eat your food.”

  They finished their dinner in silence.

  Chapter 13

  Ariel’s aunt poured the freshly boiled lobsters and crabs over the paper table cover. Ariel’s parents, Lew and Martha Grace, and her uncle and aunt, Henry and Beatrice Morel, gorged on the steamy crabs and lobsters with their hands and seafood utensils.

  They sat at a picnic table in the backyard of the Morel’s house. Ariel ate three crabs and a lobster before she was full. Afterward, she wiped her hands dry and fiddled with the sapphire pendant around her neck.

  “That’s a very beautiful necklace you’re wearing,” Beatrice remarked.

  “Thanks, Auntie,” Ariel said. She blushed. She had forgotten to take it off before she came to the Morel’s house.

  “Where did you get that from?” Martha asked.

  “I found it at school, Mom.”

  “Found it at school?” she said incredulously.

  “Yes. I … I found it on the floor.”

  “Well, you should give it to your teacher. It probably belongs to someone.”

  “I will,” Ariel said hesitantly.

  After half an hour, a heap of hollow crab shells and cracked lobsters lie before them. The adults gossiped about the grapevine in town, and it might as well be Greek to Ariel, for she didn’t know what they were talking about. Bored, Ariel washed her hands and then strolled across the front lawn to a tall oak tree.

  Ariel started to climb it, which she had done numerous times at the Morel’s house. She usually climbed halfway up and then perched herself on a thick branch to gaze at the neighbor’s houses. But on this occasion, a hornet buzzed near her face and she lost her grip. The sapphire issued blue sparks that formed laser-like wings on her back.

  The wings fluttered rapidly, and she hovered above the ground just before where she would’ve landed. Ariel couldn’t believe her eyes. She was sure she should be crying in pain right now. She thanked the sapphire for saving her.

  Once Ariel realized that she could control the wings, she flapped them until they blurred. The wind blew around her as she flew up to the top of the oak tree.

  Ariel perched on top of the tree and gazed at the dark blue sky. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. She looked up at the stars, and they seemed to wink down at her. She was amazed that she could see so many from the vantage point of the treetop.

  She leaped off the tree and the wings flapped, taking her over the street and the row of houses. She flew up high and then glided over the forest. Swooping down to a cluster of birds, they flew away instantly. A thought cropped up in her mind.

  Maybe if I were smaller, the birds would welcome me.

  Ariel closed her eyes and wished she were smaller—as small as a fairy. Suddenly, her body shrank. She became as small as a bird. She swooped down and perched herself on the branch of a tree. No birds flew away this time. Beside her, she saw a Great Horned Owl gazing at her. As soon as she walked up to it, the owl flew away.

  “I just wanted to pet you,” she said.

  The branch began to sway as if something else had perched on it. She spun around and saw a snake.

  “Ahhh!”

  The snake lurched and almost bit her when she fell backward from the branch. Her body smacked into leaves and branches on the way down. Before she landed, the blue wings saved her again, fluttering rapidly. She landed on her feet, and then grew to her normal size. The wings disappeared.

  Ariel let out a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

  Suddenly, the snake fell from the tree, landing several feet from her. Ariel jumped back. The snake looked like it was dead. She crept up to it when its eyes shined a bright yellow. Its body stretched, morphing to the size of an anaconda. Ariel started to backpedal, fearing for her life. The anaconda was now forty feet long. It hissed at her, bearing its razor-sharp fangs. In a flash, it lunged at her.

  Ariel closed her eyes and screamed.

  The sapphire released a blue sphere that knocked the anaconda back. When Ariel opened her eyes, the anaconda lay at least thirty feet from her. She was stunned. How did it get that far? Its body was contorted, and it moved about confusedly as if it was seeing stars.

  Ariel made a run for it out of the forest. Once the anaconda regained its senses, it slithered toward her hastily. Ariel turned around and saw it closing in on her like a speeding car. She closed her eyes, wishing she could fly away.

  The sapphire flashed as if it had heard her, and blue wings appeared on her back. They fluttered swiftly and before she knew it, she was off the ground. The anaconda snapped a bite, missing her foot by inches. She flew out of the forest and returned to the Morel’s house within minutes.

  By the time she arrived at the front yard, she saw her parents getting ready to leave inside the house. They opened the front door and saw her. At this point, Ariel’s wings were gone.

  Martha said, “There you are, Ariel! We’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?”

  “Um … I was just taking a walk, Mom.”

  “A walk?” she said, shaking her head irately. “Next time, tell us where you’re going. You had me worried, Ariel.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Don’t do that again, okay?”

  “Okay. I won’t.”

  “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 14

  Beanie stirred awake, her body trembling with each crack of thunder. She heard the rain stream down the gutter noisily and the window ripple with taps. She leapt out of bed to the window and looked outside as the rain hit the lawn like hail. A wave of fear crept over her aching heart. She dreaded going to school on stormy days.

  She could hear her father stomping around the living room downstairs. He complained that he couldn’t find the tests he had graded last night. He asked Hemlock and Bram where they were, but none of them knew. This made him livid. He insisted that Bram had done something with them. The accusation provoked Bram, and they got into a yelling match.

  The topic changed at some point, and Mark and Hemlock asked Bram to go upstairs and apologize to Beanie. Bram refused. Instead, he left the house with his rain jacket and got on his bicycle. In spite of the downpour, Bram hopped the curb and peddled down the road to Kitewell Middle School.

  It was strange that her parents hadn’t come upstairs to tell her to get ready. She looked at the clock on the wall and it was half-past seven. Kitewell Elementary started at 8:45 a.m. The school bus wouldn’t arrive until 8:10 a.m. She still had time to get ready, but she was tired after staying up late putting Nighthawk back together. It took her until one in the morning before she gave up on the thread and needle and used a stapler instead. It wasn’t anything to brag about, but at least Nighthawk was in one piece.

  It was 7:55 a.m. when Mark drove her to school that morning.

  With Kitewell High School starting at 7:50 a.m., Beanie could see the lines of stress creep up on Mark’s face. He was late, and he gripped the steering wheel fiercely. The windshield wipers barely kept up with the rain that smothered the windshield. He had to drive ten miles per hour slower just to see what was in front of him. He followed the taillights of the cars as a guide, which was his only recourse.

  A ribbon of lightning flashed in the sky. Thunder boomed.

  Beanie flinched and clutched her seat belt tightly.

  On this rainy morning, Hemlock didn’t pack her lunch today. Beanie had to do it herself. She packed the usual cinnamon bread and cookies along with chocolate milk. Hemlock had been busy drying her brunette hair after the intense argument with Bram. She would be late too on this Tuesday morning. Everybody was trying their best, but it felt mo
re like a blue Monday than a Tuesday.

  “Daddy,” Beanie said over the squeaky windshield wipers. “Did you find your tests? I overheard you and mommy talking about them downstairs.”

  “That’s correct, honey. I can’t find them. They’re very important. Do you know where they are?” He perked his eyes up in the hope that she might know.

  “No.”

  He sighed disappointedly, hunching his shoulders. “Oh, I see.”

  “Were there a lot?”

  “Yes. My students are taking the AP Lit exam this week.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s a college credit exam for Advanced Placement English Literature.”

  “Is that the same as Language Arts?”

  “It’s similar, I guess. That’s what you take in your class, right?”

  “Yes. I thought you said you teach English though?”

  “Well, sort of. AP Lit is just a fancy way of saying I teach a really advanced English class.”

  “So you lost their exams, Daddy?”

  “No, honey. I gave them a test to prepare for the exam. I wanted the students to see their scores so that I could review with them for the exam on Friday. Now they won’t know how they did on it. It’s … ” He cleared his throat with a rasp. “Now it’s like they’ll be walking into the exam blind. I spent the weekend grading them, making comments and corrections. It took me over seven hours to grade them. Seven hours. And now all that time is lost and … I know I left them somewhere in the house. They couldn’t have got up and walked away. Hey, Beanie … did you see Bram do anything with them?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “He was upset about last night. Especially since your mother and I—”

  “Grounded him,” she said, finishing his sentence.

  “Yes,” he said. He swallowed dryly.

  “You said he can’t go to the baseball game this weekend?”

  “The Brave’s game. That’s correct.”

  “Maybe Bram threw your tests in the trash,” she speculated.

  “He better not,” Mark said coarsely. “Gosh, this is awful. My students will be livid when they find out. It took them two classes to complete it. Two classes. I knew I made the test too long, but at least it covered everything I’ve taught this school year. I just wanted to challenge them, you know? Give them a taste of what’s to come this Friday.”