Half a dozen bats exploded
from saguaro nests, providing opportune shelter for weary sparrows at sunset. Haphazardly
balancing warm dishes as she hurried across the yard, Tara needed no reminding
that she was late with her grandpa’s evening meal. It had not been a
star-spangled day.
Beginning with overheard
whispers of “the chubby girl” by someone she thought was a friend, to the
almond-eyed boy avoiding her gaze, her rotten day continued with an
embarrassing C- on the US history test; which she hadn’t yet told her grandma
about because they’d been busy arguing about why she, Tara was not permitted to wear
make-up like the other girls at school.
She’d stuffed a pocket full
of chocolate for grandpa Hawk and would have popped another one in her mouth,
had her hands been free to reach for one. She wondered if maybe she’d been
having too many of those as she dove coo-ed at the heavy wooden door.
The door creaked open
immediately, reminding her that she was late and Hawk was probably starving by
now. Oh, great, another failure. But the darkness of her mood was somewhat
lifted by the familiar heady scent of sandalwood, wafting from within the hut.
Dressed in his usual attire
of moccasins, jeans, and an old western shirt, her grandpa still looked much
like the brave Apache leader he’d been in his youth, though his hair was now
silver and trailed halfway down his back. He didn’t smile, but his black eyes
danced with delight as he nodded and stepped aside.
“The day grows dark, Tara.” He said without
malice.
“I’m sorry I’m late, Hawk. I
was um, talking to grandma.” She busily set the table where a single candle
glowed softly in the waning light and tried to change the subject. “Only a
month till summer break, I can’t wait.”
“You disagree with the old
woman’s experience?” his eyes never left her face as he seated himself at the
table. He stabbed his fork pointedly at her side of the table, where she hadn’t
set another plate of food for herself.
Smiling at his ‘old woman’
term for her grandma, she shrugged. “I’m not really hungry tonight.”
He munched appreciatively on
green corn tamales while she fidgeted; swinging a foot, drumming her fingers on
the table. By the time she cleared the table, the sun had long since dipped
behind Cat’s back Mountain. “Ready to lose another Skystone?” she challenged.
Reaching into a worn leather
bag, Hawk shook his head. “Knots,” He said.
“Knots?”
“Tonight, we play Knots.
Sit.”
Once she was seated, Hawk
handed her a two-foot length of rope, knotted at one-inch intervals. Tara gave
him a quizzical look and he explained
“Untie each knot.” He held up
his own length of rope and blew out the candle, immersing the room in total
darkness.
“But,” she stammered “in the
dark? Where do I start?”
“At the beginning. Solutions
are better when found in thoughts not distorted by sight.”
For a time the only sound was
the serenade of crickets as the two worked their knots in the dark. Tara found
herself thinking about her gloomy day as her fingers felt and tugged and
finally loosened the first knot.
“Got one!” she exclaimed
proudly.
“Just one?”
Under cover of darkness, Tara
rolled her eyes at Hawk’s remark. “Hey, I’m just getting started!” she
continued “I didn’t do well on my history test.”
“Distractions.”
“No. Well, I guess so. I was
anxious to finish the test and be in time to meet up with friends between
classes. Funny, I remembered the right answers on that last knot I untied.”
“Ah.”
“Done! Last one, Hawk. I’m
done!”
He struck a match and relit
the candle, beside which lay his unknotted rope. A victorious grin on is
sun-leathered face, he thrust out a hand; palm up.
“I win. Candy is prize!”
Smiling, she filled his
waiting palm with all the chocolates in her pocket “I concede,” She said, “you
win.”
She gathered up dishes and
was at the door when he spoke again.
“There is one candy missing.”
She tugged on her pocket to
show it was empty and shook her head as Hawk pulled the heavy door open. “Don’t
know where it could be.” She said.
“On your breath.” He gave her
a knowing grin.
“Oh!” averting her eyes
sheepishly “Well, thanks for the game!”
“Goodnight, Tara.” He closed
the door behind her.
Lit by a nearly full moon,
the carefully tended yard lent a feeling of peacefulness she hadn’t realized
she’d been missing as she made her way with a skip in her step to her grandma’s
back door.
dee Kay
Lands End ©2012
