Drizzled with Death(87)
From my perch I could see the rooftops of the Congregational church, the grange, and the library. A curl of smoke wound its way out of the butter pat shaped chimney at the Stack. Acres of maples and beeches and cow-dotted fields met my eye. Even in the bleakness of late November, the beauty of my hometown was as easy to see as the sunlight sparkling on the lake at the foot of the hill.
Behind me, I heard a rustling and cracking twigs. Graham emerged from around the side of the outcropping. His official uniform jacket bulged as if he had indulged in few dozen too many Thanksgiving pies.
“What have you got there?” I asked.
“The last monkey for the barrel.” Graham opened his coat and the little monkey he’d been chasing the other day stuck its head out. “What brings you up here?”
“I was out on a fool’s errand and thought I would stop and take in the sights.” I patted the rock next to me. “There’s a seat here free if you and your friend would like to watch the sunset.”
“Don’t mind if we do.” Graham stretched his legs out in front of him and settled the monkey on his lap.
“How about a snack?” I pulled the packages from my pockets. “I’ve got two choices.” I held up both, and the little guy slipped a hand out above the jacket zipper and reached toward the cheese curls. “I’d say that’s a yes.” I handed the monkey a cheese curl and the bag to Graham.
“I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be the sort of thing his mother would approve of,” Graham said before crunching into a curl of his own.
“Just make sure to wipe off all the orange sawdust before you reunite them. That’s what I do with Celadon’s kids. She never catches on.” I carefully opened the animal cracker box, and pulled out a zebra.
“If he holds still, I’ll give it my best.”
“So, I guess you’ll be headed back to wherever it is Fish and Game officers go now that you’ve caught your last fugitive.” I kept my eyes fixed firmly in the middle distance, not wanting to look either eager or disappointed.
“Where we go is mostly up to us as long as we patrol our territory. Sugar Grove happens to fall within mine so I can be through here as often as I wish or as often as someone here needs me.” I felt him scootch just the tiniest bit closer. I felt my stomach go all cold then hot. Before I could think of a thing to say, I spotted something long and lean and ending in a swishy tail picking its way through the trees on the hill opposite us. I jumped to my feet and, without taking my eyes from the mountain lion, grabbed at Graham’s arm.
“Do you see it? Now do you see it?” I waved my free arm, jabbing it in the direction of the big cat.
“See what?” Graham asked.
“The mountain lion. It was right there.” And then, it was gone. I strained my eyes but the light was fading fast and the buff-colored leaves provided perfect camouflage. I turned toward Graham, his arm still held tight in my grasp.
“I’m sorry, Dani, the only thing I’m looking at is you.” I started to laugh. There I was standing on a big hill, waving wildly at a cat while holding on to a man named after a cracker. Now what else was it my father wanted me to know? Then I remembered: Don’t discount what someone says just because they aren’t looking at things the same way as I do. I turned back to the valley and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of wood smoke drifting up from below. Graham and I might not look at things the same way, but somehow it felt like my father approved.
Celadon was right, at least in part. I had started the business because of my father. But it hadn’t just been guilt. I wanted something I had shared with my father to continue and even to grow. After the way I felt when it looked like Greener Pastures was doomed to close, I realized the business meant more to me than it had when I had first proposed it. I was proud of what I had accomplished, and as I looked out over the place I knew I belonged, I felt sure the pasture was greener right here in Sugar Grove.