CHAPTER FIVE

Owen True – The Appreciated

 

 

GRAMPS AND I SIT ON THE STEPS with Daisy at our feet. Gramps is drinking his coffee, two cream, two sugar. When I warn him about how bad all that sugar is for him, he just flashes his perfectly straight false teeth and starts singing:

Sugar in the morning, sugar in the evening, sugar at supper time, be my little sugar and love me all the time.

We’re in no hurry as we sit in the old lawn chairs and soak up the morning sunshine. That’s the thing about summers in Haywire. There’s never any rush.

Back in Seattle it’s all hurry all the time. Hurry Owen and eat your breakfast. Hurry Owen and brush your teeth. Hurry Owen and leave for the bus—you don’t want to miss it. (I think my name is actually Hurry Owen True—I should check my birth certificate.) Hurry Owen and eat your supper. It’s almost time for piano/swimming/painting lessons. Yeah, I’m an over-scheduled American kid.

Totally the opposite of Haywire kids like the Sweets who don’t seem to do anything extra.

So, Gramps and Daisy and I are sitting there all quiet. I’m thinking my thoughts of home and Mom and Mikala. I’m guessing Gramps is thinking about Annabelle Pershishnick and her peach pie. Blah.

Suddenly, I spot a faded, too small dress heading our way.

Instead of her usual hands on hips stance, Mikala’s hands are tucked behind her back and when she gets close enough she stands in one place.

“Hi, Owen True.” Her eyes are kind of strange. Softer. And she’s tilting her head in a weird way.

“Hi, Mr. True,” she says to Gramps.

“Hello, young lady. How are you this fine day?”

Mikala nods. “I’m good.”

Then it gets all quiet and awkward. What should I say? Why doesn’t she say something? I look at Gramps, hoping he can tell by my eyes that I need help here, but he misunderstands. Instead of jumping in with some conversation, he excuses himself.

“I think I’ll go roll around in the back yard,” he says, “leave you two alone to talk.” I almost grab him by the shirt but he slips past before I can grab hold.

“Owen True?”

I look up at Mikala who’s still standing there, all calm with her hands still hidden behind her back. “Uh, huh?”

“Thank you. For what you did for Ruby. I don’t know what would’ve happened if it weren’t for you.”

“Oh, sure. You’re welcome.”

Mikala sits in Gramps’ empty chair.

“That was the scariest thing that ever happened to me, Owen True. Once I was sure Ruby was okay, I went to my room and cried for an hour.”

She twists the hem of her skirt around her fingers. Her hands are chapped and her nails all rough from being chewed. I have the strangest urge to take her hand and hold it. Instead I lean away a little bit.

“Mom was really upset when I told her. Mason didn’t want me to tell her. He doesn’t want us to tell anyone.”

“Why?”

“He’s afraid the girls might get taken away from us. Mom’s afraid of that too. She wants to thank you though, she’s really, really thankful. We all are. I want to make sure that you know that.”

“Okay.”

“So, are you busy today?”

I wish. I shake my head.

“Mom’s taking a few days off work, to settle the girls and stuff. Do you want to go check out our old fort?”

She means the fort we built together a few summers ago, when she and Mason and I were all still friends. It’s in the trees behind her house.

“Yeah, that’d be fun.”

So, we walk back to the Sweets’ house. Not strolling, mind you, Mikala is marching. I have to pull my fists out of my pockets to keep up.

I spot movement on one of the connecting roads. It’s easy to pick out Mason’s mop of hair on his tall lanky body. He’s with a couple other kids who have bikes. Mason’s leaning against a power pole.

“Who are those guys with your brother?”

“Judd and Everett Overton,” Mikala slows up just a bit to stare. “They’re no good. There ain’t any good kids left in Hayward. Hardly any kids at all for that matter.”

Mikala is right about that. Haywire is full of white-hairs like my Gramps. It’s practically one big senior center.

We cut through the Sweets’ back yard and I gasp a little when I see it. Our tree fort. Obviously I don’t have one in Seattle. Kinda tough when you live in a condo without a yard.

Even though it’s all rickety with uneven boards and nails with broken bent-over heads that didn’t quite get hammered in all the way, it’s really cool.

Mikala motions for me to go first, since she’s got a dress on. I test the boards remembering how Mason and I hammered them on one at a time. They still hold my weight.

“Crickets, Owen True,” Mikala calls out. “I go up here all the time. It ain’t gonna to fall apart or nothin’.”

I get to the top and look over the rails. The creek swoops around behind their yard on one side, and you can just catch a glimpse of the bridge that leads out of town. On the other side is the Sweets’ back yard.

“It’s still really awesome!” I say, trying to reel in my excitement but failing.

“Yeah, I know.”

Mikala pulls out a blanket she had stashed under a bench, and spreads it.

“Do you want to sit on the blanket with me, Owen True?”

I answer by doing it. “Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Owen True.”

“Ain’t that your name?”

“Yeah, but, you always say both names. My first and my last.”

“Oh.” Mikala wrinkles her brow, like she really didn’t realize she did that. “I don’t know. Does it bug you?”

I think about it. Funny thing is, it doesn’t bug me. In fact, I sort of like it. But only from Mikala. No one else. “No, I don’t mind it. Just curious that’s all.”

“Okay, Owen True. Tell me, what’s it like to live in a big city?”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s okay. There’s always lots to do. But there’s also lots of noise and pollution.”

Mikala sighs wistfully. “Crickets, I’ve never been to a big city before.”

“Really?”

“It’s true. I’ve never been anywhere outside of Edson, and I only go there to go to school and shop sometimes. That’s why I want to be a writer. If I can get rich and famous, I can leave Hayward and buy a new dress.”

I suddenly feel really sad for Mikala. And a little ashamed of myself. I have so many opportunities and so much stuff and I just take all of it for granted. “I’m sure you’ll be a great writer someday,” I say. “Are you writing anything right now?”

“Ah, I try, but I don’t have any good ideas. Do you have any good ideas, Owen True?’

I lean back to think about it. Any good ideas? Then I remember the weird fog thing that happened the first night I arrived.

“Have you ever seen fog here? I mean, not regular fog but strange fog?”

Mikala shakes her head.

I decide to chance it. To tell her what happened that night. I hope she doesn’t think I’m a big weirdo and throw me off the fort or something.

“The first night I was here, I went to the creek behind Gramps’ house. There’s an old log there I like to sit on. I can throw rocks into the creek from there and watch the trains go by.”

“But the trains don’t go by Hayward anymore,” Mikala says.

“I know, but that was the weird thing. I heard a train. The whistle blew loud and clear. Then the fog came up outta nowhere, and rolled sort of like a long snake. It stayed on the tracks. I know this sounds crazy Mikala, but I swear, I saw it.”

“If you say you saw it, then I believe you.”

“It turned into a fog train and then at the end where the caboose would be, this thing formed. Some kind of being. It had a face with small holes where the eyes would be and two arms. It saluted me, and then disappeared.”

Mikala’s eyes are as big as Daisy’s food and water bowls.

“What’d’ya think it was?” she says.

“I don’t know. Maybe a ghost?”

“Or an angel?”

I ponder that. “Well, it did have wing-type things, so I suppose it could’ve been an angel. But why would an angel show itself to me?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Mikala says, “but whatever it was, it does make for a good story.” She smiles then. “Thanks, Owen True.”

I smile back feeling strangely happy.