Free The Clay Lion by Amalie Jahn

west toward
the mountain pass.
    I realized, as I watched the car disappear, that
I had been holding my breath.  I filled my lungs desperately with air and
released the tension in my shoulders.  The store employees continued to
discuss the roof, so I reasoned that I could spare a minute to approach the
remaining children in the vacant lot.  My legs found their momentum and I
moved swiftly to their playing field.
    “Hey guys,” I called as casually as I could, “who
was the girl who just left?”
    “Melody,” replied a little blond girl with both
front teeth missing.
    I approached her.  “Was that her brother?” I
ventured.
    “Yeah, Charlie,” she said.
    “Oh.  Do you know their last name?” I pried,
wondering when the girl would realize she was giving out an awful lot of
information to a perfect stranger.
    “Johnson,” she answered without missing a beat.
    I continued my line of questioning, aware that,
in addition to appearing rather strange, I was also wasting the time that I
should have been spending learning about the roof.
    “Do they live close by?”
    “Yeah.   On Sycamore.   But they go to Hawk’s Ridge,” she
explained, possibly anticipating where I was headed with my next question.
    Hawk’s Ridge was the town’s only K-12 private
school, which would explain why I had never seen him before.  I thanked
her for the information and ran as quickly as I could over to the other side of
the lot.  As I approached the employees, Mr. Cooper recognized me
immediately and signaled for me to come over with a friendly wave of his
hat. 
    “Well how are you Miss Brooke?” he asked warmly,
wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
    “I’m good,” I answered.  “Real
good.   What’s going on?”
    “Kids got a ball up on the roof here and when
Bill went up to get it, seems we got a patch of busted up shingles on the roof gonna need replacing before the next snow comes.  What
a blessing those kids were out here today or else I’d have never known ‘bout
that hole.  Ain’t no coincidence in life ya know!”
    “Yes sir,” I said.
    “Branson showed up last week looking to work
again this season and you know I can’t turn down a hard working boy like your
brother.  Could probably use you too if you had an inclination,” he said,
eyes twinkling.
    “Oh, no sir,” I replied, “I’ve got plenty of
schoolwork keeping me busy these days.  I hope you can get the roof fixed
real soon.”
    “Well, yeah, I’m gonna get Bill and a few others on it tomorrow.  Hopefully have it torn off and
redone in a day or two.  I gotta run now. 
Tell your brother I’m gonna need him as soon as
possible with this mess and tell your momma and daddy hello.”
    “I will, sir,” I said.
    With that, Mr. Cooper headed inside.  I
lingered to listen to Bill and the others deciding how to go about demolishing
the broken shingles in such a way as to protect the underlayment from the
elements.  After a few minutes, I realized they did not have any
information to share that I did not already have, so I began the walk back
home.  The sun was beginning to set, and with it, the warmth of its
rays.  I untied my jacket from around my waist, shrugged it over my
shoulders, and tried not to think about Charlie Johnson as I made my way toward
home.
     
     
     
     
    C HAPTER E LEVEN
     
     
     
     
    Over the course of the next week, I repeatedly
failed myself, and my whole family for that matter, on every front.  While
I was supposed to be contriving elaborate schemes to keep my brother from the
hardware store attic, I caught myself continually thinking of Charlie Johnson
and his bewitching smile.  I found that I was unable to control
myself.  It took every fiber of my being to concentrate on the task at
hand.  I began hating my subconscious for its unwillingness to focus on
Branson’s plight instead of Charlie.
    Within several days of the ball incident, work
began on the roof of the hardware store.  Before they started, I