Meadowlarks by Thomas Holladay (novels to improve english TXT) 📗

had Kidro not replaced his door with a proper door made by Willis? Would this new door protect these new Potters?

Who could know?

He returned the Bible to the mantle and dropped back to his knees. He pulled the medicine bag from around his neck, opened it and tossed the contents onto the rug. He gave them a glance, swept them up and tossed them into the air, watching them fall and scatter, examining the pattern of stone, feather and bone.

It will come.

That familiar chill rushed across his shoulders and down his spine. He closed his eyes, lifted his voice and filled his home with the ancient words and phrases of his people, hoping his chant would protect him through this night.

“DID YOU ASK HIM ABOUT television?”

Mom had promised to ask someone after church today. He'd forgotten to ask earlier and now it was his bedtime.

She adjusted his blanket, making sure he was covered.

Barnabas sat there on the floor waiting for her to finish, waiting for Jason to let him climb onto his bed.

She said, “The cable companies won’t come up here. He said it took an act of the California Legislature to get phones up here. Your grandmother paid for the run into the valley from the pass.”

“Who said?”

“Mr. Jacobsen.” She kissed Jason’s cheek and stood clear.

Jason nodded to Barnabas and his dog jumped onto the foot of the bed where he clawed and turned around and around, making it comfortable before he laid down.

“What about satellite TV?”

“The mountains are too high. They block the signal.”

“Gosh, I’m sure glad we’ve got the internet.” Jason’s computer was already online in the library.

“Reading is better anyway. Forming mental images is good exercise for the brain. That’s what . . .”

“I know. That’s what daddy always said. He never saw a television before he joined the Marine Corps.” She’d told him that a million times, why she'd never let him watch Grandma’s TV.

She smiled and went into the hallway, poking her head back in. “Goodnight, honey.” She turned out the light and left the bedroom door a little open, just like at Grandma’s.

Jason pulled the covers up to his chin, pressed his feet against his dog, so snug and warm, and thought about those Embry twins. He couldn't let anybody make him look stupid like that. Even if they beat him up, they wouldn’t mess with him again. Jimmy had taught him that. He didn’t know which one to go after first. They'd both tried to make him look stupid. He’d ask them both who wants to fight. They’d probably fight each other making up their minds. Jason smiled. He could hardly wait for his first day of school.

He sat up and opened the curtain, couldn’t sleep anyway.

The moon had risen all the way up and it was big. Maybe it looked bigger because of how high in the mountains they were. Under this clear sky, he could actually see shapes on the surface of the moon. He didn’t know why they called it the man on the moon. He couldn’t see anything that looked like a man, not even as bright as it was. He could probably read under this moon.

Barnabas growled and rushed to Jason’s side, ducked under the curtain and bumped the glass with his nose.

Jason wrapped an arm around his dog's shoulders.

The tight muscles on his dog's back shook like crazy, like he needed to go outside.   “What is it, Barnabas?”

His dog propped his front paws on the window ledge and stretched upward, maybe trying to see the upper meadow.

“Silly dog. You can’t see past all those trees.”

Maybe something was in the trees.

Jason got to his knees and ducked under the curtain with Barnabas. Maybe they could both see better like this.

Barnabas licked Jason’s cheek and whimpered, bumping Jason’s face with his nose and growling, saying something.

Jason heard it now. A moaning, screaming sound that might come from a cow or a sheep or maybe even a deer was coming from their upper meadow. Some animal might be in trouble. The screams grew louder, more frantic.

Barnabas turned and bumped the window so hard that Jason feared the glass might break.

He wrapped both arms around his dog’s neck and dragged him away from the glass.

The sounds from outside stopped, and Barnabas sat still, looking at the window and listening. Whatever had been out there had gone but Barnabas kept listening.

Jason settled back and tried to pull Barnabas with him but the dog stayed tight all over.

A shrill, eerie scream came from out there and Barnabas stood protectively over the top of Jason, still looking out the window. A strange kind of laugh followed; a loud, echoing laugh, like a hyena.

Barnabas barked back at it twice, warning it to keep away.

Quiet followed.

“Barnabas, did Mom bar the front door?” He wanted to go down and check but his muscles wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t remember her barring the door since that first night almost a month ago.

She said she could barely lift the bar and that she was sure the Baldwin hardware would be enough. Besides, Jason needed to go out early to feed the horses. If she had put it up, he wouldn’t be able to take it down by himself. He wasn’t big enough. Not yet.

He pulled the covers up, grabbed Barnabas and held him close.

His dog's breathing slowed back to normal and his muscles stopped shaking. He finally relaxed completely, dropped his head onto Jason's chest and took a deep breath. His eyes closed for the night.

Chapter Eleven

Those strange sounds had kept Carolyn tossing and turning all night, imagining all kinds of things that go bump in the night. Funny that her husband had never mentioned it. He’d never talked about his childhood at all. The way Tom Kirby used to kid him about being a hick, she'd assumed he grew up in a small town with a normal childhood, nothing interesting to speak of. She was now learning just the opposite. He'd grown