Uncertain Summer Read online

  Shawna’s tree climbing skills weren’t what they used to be—she could barely pull herself up the trunk, and then she stalled. “I broke a nail!”

  “Who cares? Hurry up!” I hollered. She’d be a goner if she didn’t. Or I might be since I was the one still stuck on the ground. These thoughts were enough for me to give her bottom a strong shove.

  “Watch it, Everdil!” Finally, she was able to lift herself up the branch.

  Something crackled, but it wasn’t because Shawna was having issues climbing. The boar had gained on me.

  Now that Shawna was higher up, I gripped the trunk and grabbed for a branch. It split off and sliced my upper arm. My brain triggered the pain, but I couldn’t dwell on it, not when Shawna cried out, “Everdil!”

  I made the mistake of looking back. The boar was only about twenty feet away, and here I was pressed against the tree like a human target. I jumped to the ground.

  “Use the cheese,” Shawna called out.

  Good thinking. I pulled the string cheese out of my pocket and tried opening it. But the cheese had softened from my body heat, making the wrapper impossible to open. I tossed the entire package to the ground.

  The boar sniffed it but must’ve been craving meat, not cheese. He barreled after me.

  I tore off running to find a new tree for protection.

  The cypress trees ahead would’ve worked, but they were too deep in swamp murk for me to get there in time. I stopped running when I found a rock on the ground.

  Shawna yelled something, but I couldn’t make out her words. The boar lunged in my direction, its jaws snapping. I was going to be porker chow if I didn’t stand my ground.

  “Get out of here!” I screamed as I kicked at the beast, shooting up a dirt cloud. Chuck Norris could’ve done way better. The boar grunted.

  Visualizing how David took Goliath out with nothing but a slingshot, I chucked the rock at the bristly beast, thwacking its snout.

  Another grunt.

  Another charge.

  Despite wanting to turn around and run for my life, I said a quick prayer. The only other option was to throw my new camera at it, but then I found a small stick near my foot. I grabbed it. With everything I had, I launched it at the boar. “I said get out of here!”

  God did me a favor just like he had done for David. My attacker took off back into the brush.

  I gulped for air when the beast was finally out of sight. Blood trickled from the cut on my arm. It wasn’t too deep although the skin around it had started to puff up and turn purplish-red.

  Shawna raced up to me. “You were amazing.”

  Minus her lack of climbing skills, she did okay too, but my voice quivered too much to tell her. We were lucky to walk away with only a cut and some scrapes.

  That local who gave the George Washington lookalike that tip had been right—there was an enormous creature north of town, but Shawna and I could certify it wasn’t Bigfoot.

  While the man had unknowingly sent us on a wild hog chase, we were confident he wasn’t going to find anything in this vicinity we hadn’t. Well, except for a piece of string cheese on the ground. I wondered what he’d make of that.

  As we trekked back to my house, alive and a wad of twenty dollar bills richer, my mind went back to Shawna’s comments following the boar attack. I guess I was sort of awesome.

  The sun had lowered in the sky by the time we made it back. Mama was the only one home. Emmett and Tim must’ve found a promising lead.

  “It’s so good to see you, Shawna!” Mama said, staring at her for almost a full minute before she embraced her. “I’m so sorry the surprise didn’t go as planned and that I wasn’t here to greet you earlier. I’ve been … distracted.”

  “Good to see you, too, Mrs. Jackson,” Shawna said. “You look great.”

  That was nice of her to say because Mama was a mess. Dark circles outlined her eyes, and the odor of a long day of frying stuff, flipping burgers, and grilling onions hung to her jeans and t-shirt. “Where’s Emmett?” she asked.

  When I shrugged, Mama eyed the cut on my arm. “And what happened to you?”

  I pictured the boar’s slashing jaws. There was no way I was going to tell her about the attack. I thought of how to respond without lying, but Shawna had that covered.

  “Nothing like an old fashioned tree climbing contest,” she said. “And if you compare cuts, you can tell that I won.”

  “That’s not …” I started to say to defend my honor, but Mama’s laughter stopped me as did Shawna’s glare.

  “You girls may be growing up much too fast, but some things stay the same.” Her gaze lingered on Shawna again. “Let’s get you both cleaned up.”

  Mama grabbed the first aid kit. The alcohol wipes stung my arm, but I toughed it out just like Shawna did as she cleaned her scrapes. A large bandage completed my care. This is shameful, but I took pride that I needed one when Shawna didn’t.

  “You girls need to be more careful,” Mama said.

  No kidding.

  Mama asked Shawna all kinds of questions as we moved into the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, mostly about how her family members were doing.

  “We’re okay,” Shawna said, almost in a whisper. It was obviously something she didn’t want to talk about, and Mama had the sense not to push the subject.

  As tired as Mama had to be, she lit up as she grabbed some produce from the fridge like she was on Garbage Can Gourmet—a somewhat wilted cucumber, a tomato with a bruise on it, a tub of cream cheese, and a loaf of sourdough bread. She was born to be a chef. “I’ve been praying your grandmother makes a quick and complete turnaround,” Mama said while slicing cucumbers so thin they were nearly transparent. “You can stay here as long as you need to. Everdil has missed you bunches. We all have.”

  I waited for Shawna to say she missed us too, but Shawna looked down and stared vacantly as Mama moved on to slicing tomatoes. Mama shaved them into the most perfect disks that you can imagine, a tough job considering how slimy tomatoes can be even without being bruised.

  “Are you still planning on opening a restaurant someday?” Shawna asked, watching her.

  Mama stopped slicing and stared out of the back window like she could imagine a world beyond Uncertain. “I’ll have to keep on waiting and seeing.”

  There was a lot do tonight—like discuss the day’s discoveries and make new plans, but Mama needed her spirits lifted urgently. There was one thing that usually did the trick. “Want to do an audition take for FoodieLand after we eat? It’ll help me to test out my new camera.”

  “That’s sweet of you to offer, but you have a guest. I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do,” Mama said, smiling at Shawna.

  If she only knew how hard I’d tried to do this earlier without getting too far.

  Before Mama could make any more excuses, Shawna told her it would be fun. It’s not like we could do much else with half of our team missing anyway. Where in the world were Emmett and Tim?

  I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I spread some cream cheese on a thick slice of sourdough bread and layered veggies on top. I gobbled up my open-faced sandwich in three bites, and I think Shawna ate hers in two.

  Before the audition run, Shawna gave Mama a quick makeover and helped fluff up her hair. While Shawna overdid her own hair and makeup, she really brought out Mama’s brown eyes with some pearly purple eye shadow and accentuated her high cheek bones with blush.

  When we moved into the kitchen, I kept the camera as steady as possible as Mama put all those kitchen gadgets to work as she hammed it up in the kitchen, literally, by preparing a deviled ham, potato, and mushroom hash. “I dreamed this recipe up at work today,” Mama said, “and these ingredients are what I had to work with.”

  “What inspires you, Chef Macy?” Shawna asked like she was the show hostess.

  Mama stopped chopping onions to share how her mother, Gram, encouraged her to mix ingredients with love. “When I cook, it’s for her and for those I
adore.” Mama turned to look right at the camera for full effect, but then I realized she wasn’t being dramatic for the camera, she’d mentioned this for my sake.

  Mama was a touch teary either from the burn of the onions or the conversation. “Do you know what my mother would’ve said right now?” Mama paused and then smiled. “Chuck Norris makes onions cry!”

  It was one of Mama’s best auditions ever, and it’s like she knew it, too. She grabbed the camera from me and before I had a chance to edit anything, she scrolled through the pictures in an attempt to find the video I’d taken. Oops. Besides the other photos like the one of the dog caught midstream, she saw the close-up shot of the boar.

  “How did you girls get this picture?” Mama asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

  “We saw the pig off in the distance when we were climbing trees. That sure is some camera you bought Everdil for her birthday—the zoom feature is incredible.”

  Man, Shawna’s dad must’ve taught her how to be a smooth talker like him this last year. I needed to take some lessons from her!

  “Boars are dangerous,” Mama said. “Both of you need to stay far, far away from them.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we said at the exact same time. Shawna and I exchanged a glance and put our hands over faces to keep our giggles from being so obvious.

  12

  Shawna, Mama, and I followed up our kitchen escapades by watching some back-to-back Garbage Can Gourmet competition episodes on FoodieLand. It was hard to focus on which contestants made the tastiest meal using pickled quail eggs, mustard, ghost peppers, and day old coffee grinds because I kept wondering why the heck Tim and Emmett hadn’t come home yet. Mama called the marina during the commercial breaks, but no one answered.

  “You think the boys are okay?” she asked.

  I wondered the same thing, but there was no need to freak Mama out. “You know them—they probably just lost track of time.”

  A little before ten, the phone rang. I jumped up to answer it before Mama could. Shawna moved to the edge of the couch cushion as I answered, “Hey?”

  “Hello there, Ms. Everdil,” Mr. Nash said in that always professional way of his. “Do you happen to know Tim’s whereabouts?”

  “No, sir.” Had I not recently seen Mr. Nash’s underwear strewn about on the floor, I might’ve been a little more intimidated right then. I was telling the truth, though. Of course I couldn’t share everything I knew because that would be breaking the rules that I myself swore we were no longer going to break. Yes, Emmett and Tim were home later than usual, but this didn’t exactly constitute an emergency, at least not yet. I cleared my throat to sound calm as I spoke. “Emmett and Tim left here late this afternoon to go on a bike ride … for fun, you know. I’m sure everything is fine.”

  Just as Shawna accused me of looking guilty earlier, her eyes were wide, and she looked on the cusp of another gasp.

  “I’m not overly concerned but wanted to check in,” Mr. Nash said into the receiver, though he wasn’t too convincing. He paused for a moment as if I might offer up more information. Truly, I didn’t know much else.

  “Well, please call me if Tim shows up or as soon as you hear anything.” Mr. Nash gave me his cell phone number and explained his plans to drive around the area looking for Emmett and Tim in case something wasn’t right.

  “I promise,” I said, figuring I owed him that much for withholding a few minor details, emphasis on minor.

  Once I hung up, I pictured the boys stranded in the woods, filthy and shivering. Maybe they’d been viciously attacked by a boar … or worse. I cleared the image from my mind by imagining they had some exciting news to share with us that would lead to the prize of all prizes. Shawna searched for any information on her phone.

  Mama called the marina again after I gave her a rundown of the conversation with Mr. Nash. Someone must’ve picked up this time. “Raleigh?” she said and then wasted no time before chewing Papa out. “Why haven’t you answered? Any news on the boys?”

  Both Shawna and I leaned in closer to Mama to see if we could overhear anything. All I could make out was the deep tone of Papa’s voice rather than specific words.

  “Fine then. Uh huh. Hmm. And you didn’t think to call me right away? You’re on a real roll, Raleigh,” Mama said. Before the phone call ended, she added, “And don’t expect me to fix you anything to eat when you get home, whenever that will be!”

  Despite what she’d said, Mama had already made him a plate of the deviled ham, potato, and mushroom hash along with one for Emmett.

  Shawna scrunched her face in concern, but I shrugged as if the tension between my parents was something new to me.

  Mama sighed before sharing, “Gramps is driving Emmett and Tim home now. I guess something’s wrong with Tim’s bike.”

  “Do you know what happened?” Shawna asked.

  Mama lifted her hands up in the air as if completely clueless. “Same type of shenanigans that you girls were up to earlier if I had to guess.”

  I stifled another laugh, especially since Mama was spot on and I was so relieved that Emmett and Tim were okay.

  True to my word earlier, I called Mr. Nash. His voice sounded much less uptight. “Thanks for the update, Ms. Everdil. I’ll be arriving in approximately five minutes to pick Tim up.”

  I watched the clock, and sure enough, Mr. Nash arrived nearly three hundred seconds later, exactly when he said he would. While we waited for the boys to get here, Mama offered Mr. Nash some of the dish she’d prepared earlier, possibly Papa’s portion.

  Mr. Nash refused at first, but he caved in a moment later, probably because of the smell of caramelized onion still lingering in the house. He sat down, and once he shoveled in a big bite, he said, “This is amazing, Macy. Have you ever considered catering?”

  Talking with a mouth full of food is one of Mama’s pet peeves, but she didn’t seem to mind too much given the ways her eyes sparkled a little brighter from his compliment.

  “Mama’s going to open a restaurant someday,” I answered for her, hoping this would somehow make her feel more accountable for her dream.

  “We’ll see,” Mama said, looking out the window again.

  We’ll see. I really disliked that phrase.

  We watched on as Mr. Nash nearly licked his plate clean, and the moment he set his fork down, he said, “I always have a party at my house to kick off the Bigfoot Conference in the fall, and I’d love for you to consider catering it.”

  “Thank you,” Mama said. “Maybe I will.”

  “Maybe I will” was a major improvement over “we’ll see.” And the fact that she was considering catering an event connected to such a thing as a Bigfoot conference showed that she might’ve been coming around.

  Shawna dared to ask, “So, have there been any Bigfoot sightings in the park recently?”

  I’d been so unprepared for her to bring up the forbidden topic that I choked on my own spit.

  Mr. Nash jumped up and was about ready to do the Heimlich maneuver, but I managed to croak out, “I’m okay.”

  Mama brought me some water as Mr. Nash explained, “Only vocalizations.”

  “Vocalizations?” Shawna asked.

  “Strange sounds that I’ve been able to capture on recordings.” Mr. Nash went as far as mimicking some of the whistles, growls, and knocking noises he’d heard.

  Mama raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if it was because she felt embarrassed for Mr. Nash like I kind of did or because she’d recalled the knocking noises we’d heard the night of the crash. If I had to bet, it was probably a combo of both.

  Shawna really did have a future as a reporter given the way she asked her next question. “I see. So what is it that makes you believe in Bigfoot?”

  Mr. Nash took his glasses with the thick lenses off before he responded. His eyes instantly looked smaller. “When I was about five years old, I went out swimming in the Caddo, alone. I hadn’t realized how far I’d gone out until it was too late. I dunked under and strugg
led to come up for air several times before a fuzzy ape-like angel rescued me. It could’ve been an oxygen-deprived hallucination, but there’s no way I would’ve gotten out of the lake alive given the state I was in. I became obsessed with apes and Bigfoot after that, making it my goal to protect the creature I believe saved me.”

  For someone who has a thing against talking with full mouths, I was surprised to see Mama staring at Mr. Nash with her mouth hanging wide open. Tim had told us the story before, but she was obviously hearing it for the first time.

  Mr. Nash smiled and then put his glasses back on, his eyes back to their familiar size. “I know it sounds crazy, and I’ve received enough ridicule to make me want to recant, but I know in my heart what happened. And if a primate expert like Jane Goodall can believe in Bigfoot, then I might not be too off base.” Mr. Nash then turned the “interview” around on Shawna. “Why all the cryptid interest?”

  I almost started choking again when Shawna answered, “Because of the Bigfoot contest, of course. I think a lot of people are interested now. We saw someone at the grocery store who looked like he was a serious hunter. Well, minus a missing finger.”

  Mr. Nash shook his head as if in disbelief. “If it is the hunter I’m thinking of, he’s bad news.”

  Approaching headlights lit up the living room. I exhaled now that Gramps arrived with Tim and Emmett safe and sound. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.

  True to my imagination, the boys were filthy. They weren’t shivering, but they were sweaty and reeked as much as the gunk Shawna stepped in earlier. Just like us, the boys were scratched up. Tim had one heck of a purplish welt on the back of his hand, plus a huge scratch ran along the side of his cheek. Other than scrapes, Emmett didn’t seem as injured, though he walked with a noticeable limp.

  “Where were you? What happened?” Mama returned to nurse mode, fussing over my brother’s scratches and his limp.

  “I’m fine. Just pulled a muscle,” Emmett said, practically brushing her off. He was acting tough to avoid looking like a wimp in front of his friends, especially Shawna. Otherwise, I can guarantee you he would’ve played up his injuries in an attempt to get more attention.