Kaden sat across the table from Gram, stirring his oatmeal. He hadn’t taken a bite. Gram hadn’t said a word to him. He felt terrible he had disappointed her. He felt ashamed he had let Emmett down. But he felt sick to his stomach when he thought about his dad.
Yesterday, all he wanted to do was get home without Dad buying anything else. But today, even though he was apprehensive, he knew he’d have to tell what happened. Someone would have to call the sheriff. But he just wasn’t ready to face that.
“Is Dad here?” Kaden finally said.
“No, he didn’t come back last night.”
They sat in silence a while longer. Gram finished her oatmeal. Kaden stirred his.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Kaden said, his eyes on his bowl.
“I know you are.”
“Can I go to Emmett’s? I need to apologize face-to-face.”
“That’s what I was waiting to hear,” Gram said, “but you should wait until a little later. He might still be resting.”
“Resting?” Emmett was like Gram, always up at the crack of dawn.
“Yes, he had a little accident,” Gram said. “Emmett started splitting wood by himself—”
Kaden looked up in alarm and interrupted Gram. “Accident? Is he hurt? Why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“Last night wasn’t the time to talk about it. I had other things I needed to say to your father. But Emmett’s okay. He was trying to stack too much wood on that rickety old trailer and it rolled off and fell on him. His leg has a big slash in it and he’s pretty stoved up but he’ll be all right. It could have been a lot worse.”
“It’s all my fault,” Kaden said. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been there.”
“No, it probably wouldn’t have,” Gram said, “but Emmett should have known not to start without you, too.”
“How did you find out?” Kaden said.
“When he came here to get you, I was surprised he didn’t know you were gone. I had no idea where you were either. We were both surprised you didn’t call him. He said the wood would wait until today. But I had a feeling he’d go ahead without you, so I walked down to check on him after lunch. It was a good thing I did. He was pinned to the ground, all the wood on top of him.”
Kaden still hadn’t taken a bite and now tears were welling up in his eyes again. Gram sat there for a while, quietly watching him.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine as rain in a few days,” Gram said. When Kaden didn’t look up, Gram continued. “Is there something else on your mind other than not calling Emmett yesterday? Did something happen at the amusement park?”
Kaden continued staring into his oatmeal, slowly stirring it around and around.
“Yeah,” he finally said, then looked up at Gram. “I’m going to tell you but I have to think things through first.”
“That’s fine,” Gram said. “I’ve always told you to think first, not act on impulse. So eat up that oatmeal before you churn it to butter. Then maybe you should take a walk to the tower. Walking is good for thinking. And when you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen.”
“Thanks, Gram, I know you will and I really am sorry,” Kaden said. He slowly pushed his chair back and headed for the door but stopped and turned to face Gram.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too, Kaden,” Gram said.
Kaden walked slowly down the road. When he reached the muddy spot, he couldn’t tell if the tire tracks were old or new. As he got closer to the barricade, he was relieved to see Dad’s truck was not there. But when he walked up the weedy path, he stopped short. Emmett’s ladder leaned against the tower. Confused, Kaden stepped back out of sight. He wondered where Dad was. He doubted Dad would walk to the tower with the ladder and leave his truck elsewhere. But he wanted to be sure. He didn’t want to meet up with him.
Kaden squinted at the tower. He couldn’t see anyone in the windows. He wished when Yo-Yo gave him the periscope, he had come down to see what it looked like from below. They had talked about checking but never did it. Now he looked to see if he could spot it spying on him. He saw nothing unusual.
Then Kaden realized something else. Kubla hadn’t made a sound. Kaden looked toward the limb. Kubla was sitting there preening himself. Kubla never did that when he was worried. Kaden stepped out into the open. As soon as he did, Kubla came darting from his limb and landed on his head. He gurgled in Kaden’s ear, totally unalarmed. Kubla was just as good as a watchdog. Kaden knew the tower was vacant.
Kubla gently tugged on Kaden’s hair before he flapped his wings and jumped from his head. The crow flew to the crossbeam and waited as Kaden climbed the ladder to the landing. Then he flew to the top of the tower and disappeared through a window as Kaden climbed the rest of the way up.
Kaden held his breath as he poked his head up through the trapdoor. Dad was not there. The tower cabin looked the same as it always did except Dad’s old sleeping bag was stretched out across the floor. Kubla stood on a jean jacket wadded up as a pillow.
“I guess Dad slept here last night, didn’t he, Kubla?” Kaden said to the bird. “Did you get any sleep?”
Kubla partially opened his wings and jumped to the chest. Kaden stared at the lock. He was afraid of what he might find but he had to look. Kaden’s heart beat fast as he dialed the combination and opened the lid. But nothing had been moved. Nothing added. Nothing taken.
Kaden picked up the cell phone from the chest and flipped it open and closed, open and closed, not really thinking about calling anyone. He knew it didn’t work. But the phone made him think if he had only let Emmett know he was going to the amusement park, he wouldn’t feel so ashamed of himself. He knew he couldn’t help his father’s actions, but his own were totally his responsibility.
Without thinking, Kaden slipped the phone into his pocket and rummaged around the chest again until he found the rasp. He pushed the sleeping bag and jacket aside, sat down in the corner, and started scraping the walking stick he was making for Gram. Scraping and scraping, over and over, removing little bits of wood. Scraping felt good. He scraped harder. Kubla jumped into the open chest. Kaden heard him getting into the bag of sunflower seeds. He didn’t mind. He kept scraping. The morning was warm but a cool breeze hinted of fall. He kept scraping. He pictured the carved lizard in his head and looked at the big knob of wood at the top of the stick, envisioning an intricately carved crow. He kept scraping.
The methodical rhythm of the rasp scraping over the wood was relaxing and let Kaden’s mind wander. And it wandered all over the place. He thought about his earliest memories, when he didn’t have a care in the world, and worried about now, when he knew what he was going to have to do. And all the while, Kaden just kept scraping, scraping, scraping.
Suddenly Kubla jumped to the window with a piercing caw. Kaden startled. From down below the tower, he heard his father.
Kaden didn’t answer. He didn’t get up. He kept scraping. Over the sounds of Kubla’s insistent warning cries, Kaden heard his father call again. “Kaden, answer me!”
Kaden kept scraping. He heard his dad’s footsteps on the ladder. Then he heard the sound of his dad stepping onto the landing, then a different sound as he climbed the stairs. The difference repeated itself over and over. Landing, stairs. Landing, stairs. Nine landings, thirteen stairs. Kaden kept scraping.
“Why didn’t you answer me?” Dad demanded as his head came through the trapdoor. Kaden didn’t look up. He just kept scraping. As his father climbed the last steps through the trapdoor, Kubla flew around outside the tower, cawing and cawing incessantly. Kaden kept scraping.
Dad walked over and grabbed Kaden’s wrist in a hard grip. Kaden jerked his arm away and started scraping again. Dad grabbed the rasp and walking stick away from Kaden. He tossed the rasp down through the open trapdoor. It bounced down, making loud clanging noises, metal hitting metal as it hit stair after stair, until Kaden heard it thump on the ground. With the noises, Kubla’s cawing quickened and grew sharper. Dad stood there looking at Kaden, his hand grasping the end of the walking stick, the knob of wood resting on the floor.
“What’s the matter with you? So you got in a little trouble for not calling that old fool.”
Kaden said nothing even though he felt his face redden. He wished he had the rasp and the walking stick back. It would be easier if his hands had something to do.
Kaden took a deep breath, looked straight at his father, and said, “Who’s Michael Smith?”
“Michael Smith?” Dad said. “I don’t know any Michael Smith. What are you talking about?”
“Well, you certainly know Emmett Adams,” Kaden said, his eyes never leaving Dad’s. “And I know you were using his credit card yesterday.”
“He owes me. And if you open your mouth about that, you’ll be sorry and so will Emmett,” Dad said, viciously raising his voice. “That’s a promise.”
“No, that’s a threat,” Kaden said angrily. “I don’t understand you. You didn’t have to steal again. And why are you so angry at Emmett? What’s he ever done to you anyway?”
“I never would have gone to prison if it weren’t for that old snitch snooping around, then calling the sheriff. You think I should be buddy-buddy with the man who kept me from raising my son? Do you think I like hearing you talk about him like he’s your father? All of it is Emmett’s fault.”
Gram had said it was best to think things through but Kaden didn’t need to think any longer this time. What he thought came out instinctively.
“No, you’re wrong. Emmett didn’t do anything,” Kaden said, looking straight in his father’s eyes. “You did. And you still are. You may be my father but you don’t act like one. And you never have.”
Kubla was still flying around and around, circling the outside of the tower, his cawing growing more and more raucous and high-pitched. Other crows were answering him with a confusing scramble of voices, like a pack of dogs all barking at different pitches, but sharper and more defined, more agitated. As if to direct the other birds to the tower, Kubla landed on the window frame and gave three ear-piercing screeches.
Kaden saw Dad lift the walking stick.
“No!” he screamed as Dad swung the stick like a baseball bat at the bird.
The big knob hit Kubla’s side with a sickening thud. The bird was knocked off the window frame. Kaden sprang to the window. He saw Kubla try to open his wings. But Kubla couldn’t turn out of this plummet and Kaden watched helplessly as the crow fell to the ground.
Kaden pushed past Dad and dropped through the trapdoor. It seemed like his legs were in slow motion. He couldn’t make them move fast enough as he went down flight after flight of stairs. He finally reached the lowest landing and hurried down the ladder. He briefly looked up. Dad was not following after him but Kaden pulled the cord on the ladder. The top slid down and he let the ladder fall to the ground with a metallic crash as he rushed to Kubla’s side.
Kubla lay motionless in the grass. One of his wings was bent backward. Kaden rubbed the bird’s head. Kubla didn’t move or make a sound but Kaden could tell he was looking at him. Kaden took off his shirt and spread it on the ground. Gently he smoothed Kubla’s wing back to his side, picked up the bird, and put him on his shirt. Gingerly, he wrapped the shirt around the bird. Then, cradling Kubla like a baby, Kaden ran.
As he ran, the cell phone bounced against his leg. He stopped and took it out of his pocket. He looked at it for a second, then flipped it open. His hand shook as he pushed 9-1-1. A woman’s voice came on the phone.
“What is your emergency?” she said.
With tears streaming down his face, Kaden said, “You need to send the sheriff to the fire tower.”