swaying in the rain,” and with his hands clenched into fists, Robert pressed his fingertips to his palms one byone, counting off her syllables, though he’d known as soon as she opened her mouth that she would outdo him.
He turned his back on Rebecca and Ryan and looked out the window. How long ago it seemed that they’d sat under the oak tree with the burned cookies. How long ago since he’d thought about Mr. Gleason and the four humors! If Rebecca was sanguine, then what was he? What was he?
“Robert,” she said, “why are you so mad?”
“I’m not.”
“Or sad.”
He turned around and gave her a mournful look. “I can’t find—”
“What?”
He couldn’t admit it. It was too terrible. Once he’d said the words out loud he would have to tell his father. “The key to the shed,” he finished.
“Why do you want the key to the shed?”
“I think we need that table up here. The table from the old patio furniture.”
“What for?”
“For people to put things on outside the kitchen.”
Rebecca was about to say they had the bench for that, but she stopped herself. “It’s in a drawer in the kitchen. The key.”
“It’s not.”
“That’s where it always is.”
“It isn’t there. But there’s supposed to be an extra one hidden on the foundation, and I can’t find it.”
“The foundation of the shed? You mean the concrete?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, let’s go look. Ryan and I will help you.” She crossed the living room and in one leap took the two steps up to the main level. From there she strode to the front door. “Come on.”
She skipped down the front steps to the driveway, Ryan following behind her and Robert a few long paces behind him, and James, alerted somehow that the older children were on the move, bringing up the rear.
Robert picked up his pace, wanting to be in the lead if they were going at all. The pain in his stomach was sharper now, a knife slicing into his belly each time his feet struck the ground.
“Wait,” James cried. Excited, he began to run, and he hit something with his toe and was on the ground before he even knew he was falling. He screamed a scream from his store of special-occasion screams, giant and piercing, and immediately Ryan turned and ran back up the driveway.
“James!”
“Dada,” James wailed, pushing up onto his knees, his chin scraped raw and the heels of his hands bleeding. “Dada!”
“Shhh,” Ryan said, crouching at his brother’s side. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Should I go get Dog? He’ll kiss you.”
“Want Dada!”
“Should I get Dog and Dada?”
Robert and Rebecca were nearly at the spur, and they carefully avoided looking at each other so they wouldn’t have to acknowledge that they should go help Ryan. It was gloomy under the trees this late in the afternoon. At the shed they squatted and felt along the foundation for a gap where the key might be, probing with their fingers and then, when they came up empty, lowering their heads to the ground and peering sideways. They went around a second time on their hands and knees. At last they stood. Rebecca had gotten dirty again, her forearms and her shins in particular, but she’d tried to be careful with her dress, and she was relieved to see that aside from one streak of dirt at the bottom, it was clean. At least the front was. She twisted to look at the back and saw that one of the daffodilshad snagged on something. The formerly pristine flower had turned into a mess of broken threads. “Oh, no,” she cried.
Robert stared at the dress, and his eyes welled with tears. “You think that’s bad.”
He told her about his lost watch, and they sat side by side in front of the shed, and because he was crying so hard Rebecca didn’t cry at all. She patted his shoulder a few times and waited. At last she wrapped her arm around him in an imitation of what their father would do if someone were upset. “Carry on,” she whispered.
He looked into her face. “I hate
He turned his back on Rebecca and Ryan and looked out the window. How long ago it seemed that they’d sat under the oak tree with the burned cookies. How long ago since he’d thought about Mr. Gleason and the four humors! If Rebecca was sanguine, then what was he? What was he?
“Robert,” she said, “why are you so mad?”
“I’m not.”
“Or sad.”
He turned around and gave her a mournful look. “I can’t find—”
“What?”
He couldn’t admit it. It was too terrible. Once he’d said the words out loud he would have to tell his father. “The key to the shed,” he finished.
“Why do you want the key to the shed?”
“I think we need that table up here. The table from the old patio furniture.”
“What for?”
“For people to put things on outside the kitchen.”
Rebecca was about to say they had the bench for that, but she stopped herself. “It’s in a drawer in the kitchen. The key.”
“It’s not.”
“That’s where it always is.”
“It isn’t there. But there’s supposed to be an extra one hidden on the foundation, and I can’t find it.”
“The foundation of the shed? You mean the concrete?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, let’s go look. Ryan and I will help you.” She crossed the living room and in one leap took the two steps up to the main level. From there she strode to the front door. “Come on.”
She skipped down the front steps to the driveway, Ryan following behind her and Robert a few long paces behind him, and James, alerted somehow that the older children were on the move, bringing up the rear.
Robert picked up his pace, wanting to be in the lead if they were going at all. The pain in his stomach was sharper now, a knife slicing into his belly each time his feet struck the ground.
“Wait,” James cried. Excited, he began to run, and he hit something with his toe and was on the ground before he even knew he was falling. He screamed a scream from his store of special-occasion screams, giant and piercing, and immediately Ryan turned and ran back up the driveway.
“James!”
“Dada,” James wailed, pushing up onto his knees, his chin scraped raw and the heels of his hands bleeding. “Dada!”
“Shhh,” Ryan said, crouching at his brother’s side. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Should I go get Dog? He’ll kiss you.”
“Want Dada!”
“Should I get Dog and Dada?”
Robert and Rebecca were nearly at the spur, and they carefully avoided looking at each other so they wouldn’t have to acknowledge that they should go help Ryan. It was gloomy under the trees this late in the afternoon. At the shed they squatted and felt along the foundation for a gap where the key might be, probing with their fingers and then, when they came up empty, lowering their heads to the ground and peering sideways. They went around a second time on their hands and knees. At last they stood. Rebecca had gotten dirty again, her forearms and her shins in particular, but she’d tried to be careful with her dress, and she was relieved to see that aside from one streak of dirt at the bottom, it was clean. At least the front was. She twisted to look at the back and saw that one of the daffodilshad snagged on something. The formerly pristine flower had turned into a mess of broken threads. “Oh, no,” she cried.
Robert stared at the dress, and his eyes welled with tears. “You think that’s bad.”
He told her about his lost watch, and they sat side by side in front of the shed, and because he was crying so hard Rebecca didn’t cry at all. She patted his shoulder a few times and waited. At last she wrapped her arm around him in an imitation of what their father would do if someone were upset. “Carry on,” she whispered.
He looked into her face. “I hate
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