It looked like a tornado had cut across our property. Mam’s willow lay in a mess of branches across the front yard. The shed behind Pap’s shop sprawled on its side. Mam’s clothesline was down. So was one of the power lines.
I ran toward the house, afraid something might have happened to Mam and Pap.
They flew out the kitchen door at the same time, onto the back porch, stopping when they saw me. They kind of leaned into each other at the top of the steps.
Mr. Cobb waited till I reached the porch. Then he tooted his horn once and waved good-bye.
“Glad you’re back,” Pap said.
I told Mam and Pap about the tree limbs down in the road. I told them about the yellow sky and the silence before the storm broke.
“Did you see Sable?” Pap asked.
“No, sir,” I said.
Mam and Pap looked at me, questioning.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said.
“Well,” Pap said, “I’ve got some cleaning up to do.”
“I do, too,” said Mam.
I looked across the yard. The fence I’d made for Sable still stood. All but one sticker. I’d built a good fence for Sable. Only there wasn’t any Sable to put inside it.
I turned to Mam and Pap. “How can I help?” I asked.
Pap put his hand on my shoulder and steered me toward the clothesline. After we got that restrung, we lifted the shed back on its foundation using the pickup truck and a winch and pulley. Some of the shed’s contents had blown around the yard. I gathered up everything still in one piece.
The box that once was Sable’s bed sat in a gully, against a rock. The cardboard had collapsed into a soggy mess. There was no saving it.
I started cleaning up willow branches, but Pap made me stay clear of them until the power company fixed the line.
As we walked across the backyard for the last time that day, Pap stooped and picked up the one fence post that had let go.
“You built a good fence, Tate Marshall,” Pap said.
“Yes, sir.”
“I didn’t know you could.” Pap looked up toward the mountains.
“No, sir,” I said. “I don’t believe you did.”
“Putting a fence in like that takes a lot of planning, a lot of hard work.”
“I did it for Sable, Pap.”
“I know, Tate.”
Pap handed me the broken fence post. I wrapped my arms around it like it was a baby.