Devor

1

Late Summer ‘95

Warm humid summers in Preble were always the same. The highways flanked by tall corn. The air so muggy that you couldn't step outside without sweat pooling on your brow or your shirt sticking to your neck. Summer was meant for berry picking, shucking corn and rolling your shrinking Levi's up over your ankles and running down to Song Lake for a dip in the murky green waters and to see if the owners of the impressive summer cabins had arrived with any new children to play with. I lived on the farm right across the highway from the lake over the summer. Pawpaw had us kids from June to September since Mama could barely afford to manage all seven of us when we were high-energy reckless little young-uns who are always up to outsmarting her.

At seven, I was the kid right smack in the middle. The twins, John and Jeremy had come first. They were 15. Annie had come next, and she was the first of us to be born with red hair, although hers was darker than mine and more definitively auburn. I was next, then there were two more boys, six and five, Charlie and Peter, then Daisy had come along a couple years before.

After a long day of helping grandpa pick berries we had brought baskets and red stained fingers for inspection. Once he had found our efforts satisfactory, he sent us out to play until the streetlights came on. Each day went by almost exactly the same, but that day, when our baskets were overflowing with blueberries, I remember clearly now.

John and Jeremy went off duck hunting with some of the other big kids and Pawpaw left Annie in charge of the rest of us. She offered to take us down to the lake for a swim and all of us happily obliged. Annie at the ripe age of 12 swung Daisy on her hip and I held Charlie and Peter's hands as we crossed the highway (which wasn’t busy) carefully, and walked down to the Polanski's dock.

The Poles as grandpa affectionately called them didn't come until August and they had given us permission to use their dock and rickety canoes so long as we left everything the way we had found it. Annie spread her towel on the grass and lay Daisy on her stomach. Charlie and Peter stripped their clothes off and sprinted towards the water without hesitation, screaming as they raced towards the murky green with pale, freckled backs. I tapped Annie on the shoulder.

What?

I pointed towards the field, the uninhabited lot next to the Polanski's.

Why?

Frog huntin’, I mumbled.

As much as school had attempted to smooth out my central New York country accent, I clung to my dropped participles and flat vowels.

Since I had lost my front teeth, I had taken up the habit of mumbling to stop them from showing. That made the sound worse. Annie’s brow knit together with distress and she fluttered her invisible lashes quickly, deciding whether I was worth as much trouble as I was giving her. She had tried to correct my speech herself many times but today, she had her hands full and I suspected that I wouldn't have gotten into much trouble if I had simply run over there without asking permission. On the other hand, she could have whooped me, so it was better to play it safe.

Fine don't get lost, she huffed.

I nodded and brushed my red hair out of my eyes as I walked towards the field. I began skipping a little. I remember the scent of fresh cut grass and the rays of sunlight searing into my freckled skin. I didn't think I would find any frogs, but I loved running through the field alone, feeling the grass tickling my ankles and rubbing on my pale legs as I pretended to be a coyote, hunting for rabbit. I stepped into the tall grass which came up to my waist at that age and I started walking away from Annie and my siblings until I could barely make out their figures on the dock.

I crouched down and started crawling forward on my hands and knees, searching for interesting critters in the soil. Once, I had found a mouse. Another time I had caught a large grasshopper that had inspired the fear of Christ in Annie when I’d unveiled my present by dropping it down the back of her dress. So, no more grasshoppers. No frogs either. I parted the grass and crouched down lower.

A low sound like the whirring of pawpaw's truck but a bit higher pitched came from overhead. I shot straight up onto my feet, my heart racing. My toes sank deeper into the mud. Gasping for breath, I scanned the field and looked over at Annie who appeared unperturbed. She mustn’t have heard the noise, although it was so loud, I wondered how she had missed it. I tried to call her name but my mouth was sandpaper dry.

Annie couldn't see me as her attention was focused on Daisy who lay on her back, arms flailing like an insect's. I kept watching them for a few moments more, digging my bare toes into the rich black clay earth. Soil spilled between my grubby dirt-caked toes and my red hair whipped around my head as a large gust of wind swept over the neighbors lot. A twig cracked behind me and I turned around, gasping in shock as I saw him. The figure towered over me, his dark shadow blocking out the light of the sun. I had always been taught to be polite to grown-ups. And in those days, our town was so small that there wasn't such a thing is stranger danger. There were no strangers. I felt no fear.

Hello.

He stared down at me. He didn't speak, yet I heard a voice ringing loud and clear in my head, as if coming from another room in my mind.

<>

I gasped. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. My hands balled into fists and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. His expression was strange, as if he had never heard anyone gasp before. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Annie was still there. And she was. But her attention was still fixated on Daisy. She had not noticed me, or the strange man. He was a big man. Bigger than pawpaw, who was the tallest man I knew at the time.

Sorry, he said out loud. His voice was strange and his r’s rolled heavy in his mouth. I had never heard that accent before.

I managed to squeak out, it's okay.

He glanced at his wrist as if he were checking the time, but the device on his wrist had no face and didn't look like any wristwatch that I had ever seen.

It appears I am early, he replied in that strange robotic accent.

I should go, I mumbled, starting to get uncomfortable in a deep, primal way.

The more I stared at this man, the more uneasy his appearance made me. He was a man, I was relatively sure of that. But he did not look like any of the men that I had seen. I heard about men from India or Japan, and even the Puerto Ricans who were different than us, but from the television I knew that he didn't look like any of those people either.

Yes, he replied, Of course you should, Ariana.

My knees started to tremble. I had never met this man before, yet somehow he knew my name. I would have to run. I worked up all the courage I could, willing myself to make a break for it. The man could sense how terrified I was, and that seemed to snap him out of his current preoccupation. His voice grew gentle, and the robotic accent that I had noticed at first vanished.

How old are you? he asked gently, his giant body blocking out the sun still.

S-s-seven.

He crouched down to my eye level and while he was less intimidating at that height, I began to notice more and more about him. His eyes… Something wasn't quite right with them. They were almost hazel, but they were closer to the yellow eyes on a black cat and his hair was long, shimmering white blonde, almost silver. His skin wasn't quite pale, but a desaturated silvery color that almost didn't strike me as human. Maybe the color would have been better described as blue. He tilted his head to the side again as he noticed me staring and then his skin went back to normal, a reddish pink color, like my own, and he was no more tan and freckled than I was. He smiled.

What month is it Ariana?

July.

Strange. What kind of grown-up doesn't have a clue what month it is? Couldn't he tell from the height of the corn? Or the blazing heat? There was no mistaking July in central New York.

You must wait, then.

I think I hear my sister calling. I made up an excuse to get me out of there quick. If he could tell I was lying, it didn’t seem to matter to him.

Right. Of course.

G’bye.

I turned around to head back in Annie's direction, hobbling along as fast as my legs could take me through the thick mud. I heard the voice speaking to me from the other room inside my head again.

<>

I whipped my head around, but there was nothing there. No man, no voices, no one but me standing in a field. I ran. I ran through the grass, no longer concerned with frogs or mice and especially not grasshoppers. I was not concerned with the condition of my dress as I ran through the high grass, splattering thick clumps of mud all over my freshly pressed frock. I arrived at the boundary of the Polanski property, out of breath, twigs and brambles stuck in my hair with my red braids undone and mud caked around my legs all the way up to my knees.

Annie glared at me with disdain and shook her head as if to say that she shouldn't have even bothered to expect better from me. My knees knocked together and my cheeks burned as I tried to explain why I’d come back a stinking mess.

There was a man, I blubbered.

The Polanski's aren't here right now," Annie snapped.

Daisy bobbed up and down on her lap as Annie waited expectantly for me to give her a better excuse for why I had torn across the property without a care in the world for my freshly done hair or my newly pressed frock. I must have looked quite a sight, red in the face and covered head to toe with mud I shouldn’t have been messing in.

It wasn't a Polanski, I insisted.

Then who? ‘Cause Mr. Chubb is gone for the morning and ain't anyone else on the lake.

I saw a man, I insisted again.

Keep telling fibs and I'll make sure pawpaw whoops your ass.

I'm not telling fibs! And I'll tell pawpaw that you said ‘ass’."

Charlie and Peter emerged from the lake as they overheard our disagreement bubbling into an argument. Annie stood up, continuing to bounce Daisy on her hips as she glowered at me, her red hair whipping around her face.

There weren't no man Ariana, so stop telling fibs.

I'm not! I yelled.

I trembled as my hands clenched into fists at my side.

Careful Annie. Her temper is as hot as her hair, Charlie teased.

My brothers burst into peals of laughter as tears rolled down my face washing dust and grime down my cheek.

Shut up, Charlie I screamed.

Watch your language, Annie sniped.

Shut up! Shut up! Both of you! I know what I saw and there was a man standing in that field.

Look at how her face matches her hair, Charlie started hooting and burst into laughter again

I screamed and rushed at him with fists clenched, ready for a fight that my puny size made me thoroughly unprepared for. It was dumb. Charlie was much bigger than I was and he had help. Annie clutched Daisy closer as Charlie and Peter dragged me to the ground and pummeled me with their tiny but effective fists. I threw my hands over my face as I squirmed and screamed, Get off me!

That will teach you a lesson, Annie sneered, leaving me at the mercy of my brothers’ punches as she stormed off back toward the farmhouse. Charlie and Peter got tired of hitting me and covered in sweat, they scrambled to their feet and spat on the ground next to me, stumbling back towards home as they laughed and thumped each other on the back with pride for giving me such a good beating.

Bye, Ariana, Peter mocked.

You better clean up before pawpaw sees ya, Charlie added.

The two laughed some more and followed Annie's path toward the house, leaving me filthy and alone with the remnants of our picnic and the cold murky lake staring back at me, so dark now that I shuddered to stare at the surface. I stripped my dress off down to my skivvies and stepped gingerly through the grass to the shore of the lake. I stuck my foot in the water, goose flesh prickling across my legs from the cold. Snot, mud, tears and a bit of blood trickled across my face. I kept walking into the water slowly until the ends of my hair brushed against the surface of the lake and soaked through.

It would be worse if I got my brothers in trouble. They’d only take it out on me later. Plus, pawpaw believed us kids should settle things on our own and he’d blame me for making more work for Annie.

I bent my knees until my face was submerged under water. I scraped the filth and fluids off of my cheeks. I blew fat bubbles beneath the surface as I rubbed my fingers over the scrapes on my legs and knees

<>

My head shot above the surface and I whipped around looking for the man. Maybe I could prove to my siblings that I hadn't imagined or made it up. I just heard his voice so he couldn't be far away. I gasped as I surfaced, splashing about madly as I whipped around searching for him. He had to be here. Right? As I looked around, I realize that I splashed alone in Song Lake and it was all quiet, except for the eerie howling of a loon.

2

Present Day

Pawpaw died in the late spring, or early summer some might’ve called it, after an eight year long battle with cancer. He fought so hard that hardly any of us believed he would actually die like that. We all deluded ourselves that pawpaw would live forever. He was the only one in our lives that seemed stable .

The day he passed, I thought we would have at least another week with him. I’ll never forget the day itself, a cold gray typical of central New York in late spring, when the thunderstorms were ready to roll across the farm plains. Annie howled so loud that she fainted, and we had to call a nurse.

Pawpaw has always been strong; he had always been the type of man we assumed would go out fighting, raising hell with a Bud in one hand and then a shotgun in the other.

Cancer made him weak and radiation made it worse. Pawpaw hated the radiation treatment more than any of us. Annie eventually agreed to let him ask the doctors to stop the treatment and he plummeted, but at least he kept his hands on the reins to the end. That’s the way he would have wanted things. He was a stubborn old man, but he’d looked after all of us kids for better or for worse.

Pawpaw had Old Bill, the Homer lawyer who handled the last wills and testament of all the little folk and farmers in town. Old Bill took all of us aside, and read off a list of who got what. Ma hadn’t spoken to pawpaw in years but he left her all the shares he had of some investments he made in the eighties that had tripled in value. Ma would spend it all on drink and we all knew it but having her spend it on Jim Beam was better than having her red-faced and pitching after the rest of us.

Charlie and Peter got an acre of land each in Tully, perfect for cultivating, not like either of them would use it for such. Annie was the sole beneficiary of Pawpaw’s life insurance, which she had more than earned in the last few months of caring for him. I got his farmhouse across the lake where we had spent so many summers as children, where Daisy had been buried after the accident, where we had played and laughed and cried together as a family. We would never be together again like that and the farmhouse was both a memento and a sad reminder. None of us present were surprised by the will and once the reading was done, we stood solemnly outside the lawyer’s office.

Damn, I need a drink, Charlie grumbled.

Annie scowled. Even now, she couldn’t help mothering us.

Why? Annie snapped, So you can end up like Ma?

Age made Annie harsher. Her big-bellied, loudmouth drunk husband didn’t help things either.

Peter intervened awkwardly, Ease up, will you Annie? This ain’t easy for any of us.

Annie tutted but didn’t dig into Charlie any further.

Are y’all staying for the memorial?

Yes, my brothers assured her. Annie turned to me expectantly and I nodded to reassure her that I too would remain.

I’m gonna head out to the farm after.

Annie scowled again.

She uttered coldly, I don’t see what you like about that place.

I haven’t been back since— Charlie started before trailing off.

I hated how no one ever wanted to say it out loud.

—since Daisy died, I finished, We can say her name you know.

I told you, Charlie grumbled, I need a drink.

Hoping to change the subject, Peter thumped Charlie on the back.

You’ll get plenty to drink in a bit. What’s going on brother and sisters? It’s been a while, he tried to play the cool hippy bit, like going out West had knocked the uptight New Yorker out of him, and like any of us would be fooled by his act.

Too long, Charlie grunted.

You two are the ones who live all the way across the country. I see Ariana all the time.

Charlie elbowed me and grinned, You still seeing Jim Baker?

No. And I would appreciate if you don’t remind me about him.

Peter snorted, I warned ya! Never date the guy your brother used to shove in lockers.

Sage advice, I snarked.

Hey don’t take it personal. You’ll find someone, Charlie teased.

Are you sure? She ain’t a spring chicken anymore, Peter continued. Their habit of ragging on me never failed to bond them together.  

Most guys probably see that hair color and realize trouble follows.

They laughed like no time had passed. Heat rose to my cheeks and my fists clenched against my will. I was too old to succumb to another petty battle with my siblings.

Don’t you two have anything better to do.

What could be better than teasing you?

Pawpaw’s memorial was well attended for our small town, and at the end of it all we had enough well wishes to last until the next Thanksgiving. Charlie and Peter didn’t linger in town long after the memorial. Peter drove Charlie to the airport since Charlie had pulled a Ma and drank half his weight in vodka. Annie left later in the evening to get home to Paul and the kids,