Erikâs situation was beginning to sink inâhard. It was Sunday. Dr. Bob was coming soon to take Quill. Maybe, just maybe, heâd have been able to stand being here if he had Quill to keep him company. But without her? All he had to look forward to was starting at a new school, where he didnât know anybody and had no friends. Everything about Fortuna, North Dakota, seemed strange and foreign, and Erik had every reason to think the kids would be different, too. What if all the guys were as weird and unfriendly as Big Darrell?
He thought about what Oma had said about Big Darrell and Dan, and his mind returned to the bedroom at the top of the stairs. He decided to go back and look around some more. He didnât know what, exactly, he hoped to learn. Mostly, he was curious. Dan was his uncle, after all.
âCome on, Quill,â he called.
In Danâs room, he studied the photograph on the wall. Dan gazed into the camera, looking handsome and very young. Way too young to be dead, Erik couldnât help thinking. Also, he had the feeling that Danâs serious, businesslike expression was put on, as if the normally smiling, happy-go-lucky boy thought this was the way a soldier ought to look in his official military picture.
Next, Erik examined the medal. He hadnât ever seen a Purple Heart before, but knew this had to be one. Oma and Big Darrell must have been given the decoration after Dan was killed in action.
Wanting to know more about Dan than the bare facts revealed by the flag and the medal and the photo, Erik opened the top dresser drawer. It contained report cards, some photos of Dan in his football uniform, and some 4-H ribbons like the ones on the mirror in his motherâs old bedroom. The next two drawers held neatly folded clothes: T-shirts and underwear and jeans.
He wandered over to the closet. There were several stiff, pressed army uniforms hanging there, a camouflage jacket, and some denim and flannel shirts. Shoes were neatly lined up in a row on the floor: shiny, polished army boots, a pair of hunting boots, a pair of loafers, and some sneakers.
The shininess of the boots caught Erikâs attention. There was no dust on themâor on anything in the room. After thirty-four years? he wondered. Then he realized that someoneâOma, of course, it had to beâmust come in here to clean. He pictured her lovingly dusting Danâs things, and maybe saying his name out loud, when Big Darrell wasnât home. It made him sad to think of it.
On the overhead shelf in the closet was some camping stuff: a sleeping bag, a canteen, and a canvas sack with a shoulder strap that he recognized as a Boy Scout mess kit. Next to these things was a shoebox tied with a piece of twine. He reached for it and slipped off the twine. Inside was a dog collar, a leash, a couple of long tail feathers from a pheasant, and more photos of Dan with a yellow Labrador retriever. In some, the dog was a puppy and Dan was about Erikâs age. One, labeled âElvisâ4-H Obedience School graduate!â showed Dan holding up a certificate and laughing as the dogâs tongue bathed his face. Flipping through them, Erik could see the boy and the dog growing up together.
Several photos were paper-clipped together. The one on top was of Dan and Big Darrell, both dressed for hunting and holding shotguns. They stood beside Elvis, who held a male pheasant in his mouth. Dan and Big Darrell were both grinning like fools, and even Elvis seemed to be smiling proudly as he held his prize.
The next, clearly taken on the same golden fall day, showed Dan and Big Darrell kneeling beside Elvis in the fallen leaves. Dan held up a bird in each hand. Big Darrell had one arm around Dan and the other around Elvisâs neck. Once again, they all looked deliriously happy.
A third showed Oma, Big Darrell, and Dan sitting at the table, with Dan holding a carving knife and fork over a platter of roasted birds. Elvis
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