Page 24 of Almost There
“Dad wouldn’t call this a creek.” Mason sat on his knees turning over rocks and looking for fish that weren’t there. “Where does it even go?”
Tessa climbed onto the rocks to scan the small canyon. “I think it goes underground. But your dad wouldn’t call anything down here a creek after the rivers and streams up in Idaho.”
“As long as the water is clear enough there to take a bath then I don’t care what they call it.” Robin’s voice drifted to her from behind the boulder.
“I wouldn’t get too excited about that just yet.” Tessa laughed as she jumped down from the rocks. “Wait until you feel how cold it is first.”
With the kids wiped off and dried, she dug through their bags on the side of the creek and made them promise to be extra careful in Agnes’s house as she dressed them. The curtains and windows were opened when they climbed back up the hill, catching the evening wind and letting it air out the rooms.
The stuffy kitchen and sitting area took on a different feel in the light, warm and inviting as the dried bunches of herbs swayed in the breeze overhead and the smell of cooking pie drifted from the cast iron Dutch oven sitting on top of the wood stove. Moose had curled up on the rug next to it and was already snoring. Traitor.
“Let me take a look at you now that you aren’t crusted with dirt.” Agnes set down a second cast iron pot on the cold burner of the stove and pulled off her fireproof gloves. The kids stood tense between Robin and Tessa, the four of them shrinking under Agnes’s shrewd gaze.
“Well look at that, there’s real people here. At first, I thought you were all wild animals.” Agnes winked and reached for the glass mason jar on the counter, taking a sip of the clear liquid. “Speaking of animals, there are two monsters curled up in your bed right now that decided to hide in the guest room while your dog is keeping me company. Do you like cats?”
The kids nodded, their eyes widening, as Agnes dug in the kitchen drawer and pulled out a length of twine. She cut off two pieces and handed them over.
“Do you mind if I get one?” Robin asked, a little unsure and embarrassed.
“You’re a cat person too.” Agnes nodded in approval as she cut off another piece. “Do me a favor and wear them out so they let me sleep in peace tonight.” Robin followed the kids down the hall, leaving Tessa alone with the woman in the kitchen.
“Thanks for helping us out.” Tessa looked around the house nervously, taking it in again in the new light. The contradiction between the woman’s tough exterior and the delicate details inside the home made for an eclectic mix. “I’m sorry for all the trouble. Do you need some help with dinner?”
“No trouble at all.” Agnes sipped the liquid from the mason jar again. “Hope you don’t mind chili. I’ve been trying to use up the last of these cans so I can rotate my storage shelves. To be honest, I’m sick of the stuff.”
“Is it just you alone out here then?” The words slipped out before she thought them through and she could see Agnes’s instant hesitation, the slight hint of self-preservation that comes with not letting strangers know too much. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s alright.” Agnes grinned as she pointed to the shotgun hanging on the kitchen rack behind her. “Besides, I’d have that shoved down your throat before you could manage to unzip your bag and pull out whatever it is you’re packing in there if you did try anything.”
Tessa’s cheeks flushed as she thought of the stupid pink and black pistol in the fanny pack tied around her waist. “I wouldn’t try anything.”
“I know that, hon.” Agnes took another sip. “And yes, it’s just me and the cats and the chickens. Sometimes the burros stop by for an unwelcome visit like you saw today.”
“Do you get lonely out here?” Tessa asked, and then wished she’d just stop talking. Of course she’s lonely, you idiot.
“Sometimes.” Agnes shrugged. “It was worse after Frank died fifteen years ago. But the longer I’ve been here alone, the more I’ve realized I don’t belong out there.”
“Is it hard, surviving all this by yourself?” Tessa stepped further into the kitchen, drawn by the desire to know everything about this incredibly different kind of person.
“I manage.” Agnes chuckled. “But this isn’t any different now than it always was. Surviving feels about the same. I reckon I’m doing better than most and that’s saying something for this lonely old goat tucked away from the world.”
Tessa smiled, knowing she was right. There was something awe-inspiring about this woman. But still… “Aren’t you afraid?”
Agnes hesitated, taking a long swig of her drink before putting it down on the counter. “Fear is what keeps us moving and keeps our eyes open so I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing to have, but I’m not the type of person to let it consume me. The way I see it, if something truly bad were to ever happen, something life ending you know, it would only have to happen once.”
Tessa nodded, but a dark thought crept its way in as her children’s laughter echoed down the hall. I don’t have that luxury.
“But you’re going to be okay,” Agnes said as if she could read her mind. “We’ll get you to where you need to go as long as you have the strength to get there. You’re not alone in this. Speaking of which, it’s time to give Sally a call.”
“Not Arthur?” Tessa’s forehead creased.
“Listen, I may be a goat, but that thick skulled man is worse than a burro.” Agnes paused, almost worried that she was speaking out loud. “Never mind that now. He’ll answer the call and hand it over. Sally and I go way back. She helps make it a little less lonely out here.”
Tessa smiled, a little intrigued and curious about the drama, as she followed Agnes outside the back door and to the ladder attached to the side of the house.
“Are you coming or what?” Agnes looked down at her.
Tessa’s smile dropped as she stared up at the spry old woman who hung with one fist clutching the next rung. “The radio is up there?”