The Puzzle Master (15 page)

“Maybe you two could go again? You know, sort of pick up where you left off?” Marshall didn’t know how to answer that.

“Why?” Marshall asked, shrugging his shoulders. “He doesn’t want to.”

“Maybe he does? Maybe he just needs to be reminded.”

Marshall shifted. “I don’t know if I want to go.”

“Yes you do, of course you want to go. The issue is you needing to forgive him.”

Marshall’s hair on the back of his neck stood up. “What does that have to do with
anything?”

 Iris looked at Marshall squarely in the face and said, “Everything. It has everything to do with it.”

Luke’s phone rang, and they could hear him cough and laugh and then cough again. But he remained out there, left them alone and dealt with the Saturday shoppers by himself.

“Well, it was fun then,” Marshall finally said, not liking where the conversation was going, “But it was a long time ago. And he’s the one that has the problem. So instead, you and
me
need to go. As soon as I win your uncle’s bet, you can use my old one and we’ll go fishing.”

Iris laughed. “I don’t think I’d do very well. I’d probably scare all the fish off.”

“I’d teach you, you’d be fine.
Really.”
Marshall looked at her in earnest. “So, is it a deal? This Christmas break, we’ll go fishing. ‘
kay
?” He stuck out a hand. She looked at it with an eyebrow raised, deliberating whether or not she wanted to succumb to his agreement.

“I taught you to skip rocks; I think I can teach you to fish.” She looked at his hand again and took it, shaking it gently.

“Okay, fine,” she said and walked over to the mini fridge. She grabbed a bag of chocolate raisins. “Just don’t make me bait the hook. Worms are nasty.”

“I think that should be a part, if not the first part, of your fishing lesson. In fact, some of the best worms are in my garden. So nice and early, like five o’clock, you come to my house and we’ll dig in the dirt. I’m telling you, they are the thickest, fattest worms you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s like a million of ‘
em
in my back yard.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned, and grabbed her hair in anxiety. “What have I gotten myself into?”

But she laughed, and then he laughed, and they spent the next few hours finding the pieces to their puzzle, and planning their future—one that very much involved fishing and skipping rocks.

Chapter 11: Halloween

October blew by quickly like the fall winds. And by the time Halloween rolled around, it was practically cold outside.
Almost.
Cold in Sacramento actually meant highs in the low-seventies. It was more like balmy and comfortable. But all the same, the air conditioning at home and at Luke’s
wasn’t needed
anymore. Marshall could barely remember what the sticky heat felt like. And that was okay.

Summer was finally over.

On the morning of Halloween, Leila came to the breakfast table in her costume. She slid into her seat and pulled her cereal bowl close to her chin.

“Hey Marsh, how do you like it?”

Marshall was concentrating on the
o’s
floating in the milk like tiny inner tubes. He finally looked at her when she yelled his name.

“Oh, it’s nice … you’re a … are you a fairy?”

“No!” she said, now fully irritated. “I’m a princess of course.” Marshall just nodded, and tried to appease her again-wounded ego, already extremely large at five years old. She poured cereal into her bowl and chewed hard, watching Marshall digging at the
o’s
again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Marshall sighed. What did she want now? Was she going to tell on him for not smiling at her?

“Nothing.”

“You seem kind of sad. Is Iris okay?”

“Of course she is!” he blurted. “Why wouldn’t she be?”

Leila shrugged and kept quiet. She didn’t yell back, she didn’t leave her chair to tell on him … she was being thoughtful almost; kind, as if she cared. Marshall looked at her, her tiara hanging off of her head about ready to splash into the milky cereal.

“You just seem sad is all,” she said to her bowl.

“Well, I’m not. I’m seeing Iris today. We’re supposed to work on the puzzle.”

“You aren’t taking me trick or treating?” she asked slowly, swallowing a huge mouthful.

“Dad is, like always,” said Marshall. “He’ll take you.”

She squirmed in her chair and looked around the room. “But dad’s working tonight. He’s not home remember?” Marshall had to think hard. Dad had been gone so many days lately it was difficult to remember when he was coming home or when he was leaving. It annoyed Marshall to have to think about it.

“Oh, I guess so. Then what about Mason? He’ll take you.”

“Mason has a game tonight,
Marsh-mallow
,” she said deliberately, frustrated that she had to tell him that information as well. “And after that, he’s going to a Halloween party. He won’t be home until late.”

“Then what about mom? She’ll go with you.”

“But I don’t want her to go with me. I want
you
to go with me, like we used to do when you trick or treated.”

Marshall squinted in disbelief. “You want me? Why do you want me? You never want to be with me anymore.”

She dug another scoop of cereal and stuffed it into her mouth. Then he saw her watery eyes. “Oh Leila, really?” he asked, and slumped into his chair.

“If it’s too much for you, I’ll ask mom,” she said, tears starting to splash onto her cheeks. “I-can-go-with-her-if-you-can’t,” she said hiccupping in gasps between words. She looked back into her bowl and leaned on one hand. Marshall knew that the tears were real. Had they been fake tears, she would’ve been out of her chair whining at their mother in her best nasal voice.

“Oh
Sheesh
, Leila, stop crying.” He was stuck. He knew he wanted to be with Iris, and work on the puzzle, but he also felt obligated to be with Leila. Not to mention, she actually wanted to spend time with him. It was so unusual it was scary. Maybe they could do the puzzle on Sunday instead. Maybe mom would be okay with that, if he’d take Leila trick or treating.

That just might work. “Sure, I’ll take you. But,” and he pointed a finger at her, “you have to let Iris come along too.”

Leila’s eyes were bright and clear again and she dove into her cereal with renewed hope. “Okay. I like her.”

 Marshall snorted. “You’ve only met her once.”

“I know but I like her.”

Marshall left the table to talk to his mother about the arrangement. Then he packed up a lunch and left for Luke’s store. Iris was on the phone when he walked in. But she said goodbye and hung up quickly, meeting Marshall with a small hug. She held on for a few seconds, to where it was awkward and Marshall finally put his arms around her too.

“Um, did I do something wrong?” he asked, peering at Luke with his eyebrows
raised
.

“No,” she whispered and then let go.
“Just happy to see you.”

“I’m happy to see you too. Let’s get started.” She nodded with excitement and they walked to the back room. Marshall tossed his brown bag lunch in the mini fridge and the pair got down to business, he in one chair, and she in another and picked a specific section to work on for an hour. After that hour, they switched places. Then they took a small break and chose completely new sections.

They talked about their farm and barn, and had picked out the barn and home in the center of the picture as the one they both wanted to live at, because it looked like it had the most land, which meant absolute freedom—the most room to spread out, fully engaged in their farming lifestyle. They talked about school, homework—especially the algebra that Marshall had trouble with—and eventually got to the subject of Halloween.

“I know I was supposed to work on this with you tonight, but I have to take my sister trick or treating. I’m the only one available really, and she actually wants me to take her. But I was wondering,” Marshall flicked his eyes her way and then back to the puzzle, which was now about half way finished, “Do you want to come with me? You know, walk from house to house while my sister gets all the candy she can handle?”

“Yeah sure,” she said, “Just as long as we can snag some of the candy too.”

Marshall grinned.
“My thoughts exactly.”

***

At lunchtime, they left Luke’s and went to Fool’s Landing. They’d been doing this practically every Saturday for the past month, and it only felt right to do it from now until they finished the puzzle. They had to sit on the same rock, overlooking the same spot of river. The sun wasn’t as warm as they
were used
to, and the rock took forever to heat up. Iris shivered a lot and goose bumps covered her arms, but she didn’t say a word. Marshall wished he’d brought his jacket and wanted to smack himself for not thinking about her in advance. She looked chilled to the bone and it was in the seventies, but here she was freezing to death.

The crane hadn’t shown itself since that day in August, and Marshall hoped to see it again. So far, it didn’t want to dine with them.
Only the pesky crow.
It showed up, and always wanted Iris’ chips.

“I don’t think uncle is well, Marsh,” she finally said, after they’d eaten their sandwiches and orange soda. “He’s coughing way too much. He sort of handles it at work, so you can’t hear him, or he goes out back, but I think he’s getting worse.”

“Is he going to go see the doctor or something? I mean, he’s
gotta
get better.”

She nodded absentmindedly.
“Hopefully this next week.
I convinced him to go in for a checkup at least, and threatened him with telling Aunt Norma how his condition really is. She’d send back for me to stay with her in a flash; even if it meant staying with her at the nursing home.” She looked at Marshall, curls bouncing and swaying. “I hope the doctor catches the drift. And I’m going in with Luke. I don’t care how much he protests, I’m going in too so I can tell the doctor how bad it really is.”

Marshall thought about Luke. The coughing hadn’t seemed so bad lately. But maybe Iris was right that he had hid it. But why hide it? He had Iris to take care of. He had to know she was concerned about where she would end up if something happened to him.

An uneasy feeling prickled in his lungs and he breathed deep. He hadn’t needed his inhaler for weeks. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d used it, it had been so long. His throat started to squeeze and his lungs felt tender.
Breathe in, let it out.
Breathe in, let it out.

“You okay?” Iris asked. She could tell he was having trouble. Marshall thought it was stupid that she could read everything about him. She could probably tell if he was getting a cold just by looking at his eyes.

“Yes Dr. Iris, I’m fine,” he lied.

“I don’t think so, you’re breathing funny. Did I say something wrong?”

“No Iris, no, it’s nothing. I’m fine. Really, just don’t think about it.” He turned away from her and stood up.
Stupid girls, always reading minds and stuff
.
“Hey, let’s go to Devil’s Hill,” he said. He had to distract her. He had to distract himself.

She stared at him incredulously. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, come on. It’ll be great. You haven’t even been down it and you’ve got a bike. You have every reason to say yes. And you have to say that you’ve been down it once, you know, now that you’re living here.”

She stood up too and tossed her last chip to the crow. The remains of her sandwich fell to the rock. It was barely touched.

But Iris grabbed the sandwich and stuffed it into her bag, probably thinking Marshall hadn’t seen it. “Tasted funny today,” she mumbled. “And sure,” she said with a smile, “Let’s do it.”

He was sure she pulled the same move he just tried to pull on her; the distraction technique. What was she hiding? What didn’t she want to tell him?

They walked to their bikes, and pedaled past his home. He could see Leila through the front window prancing around in her princess gown.

“We just have to go up this hill first!” he yelled back to her. Iris was keeping up with him and he was glad. Maybe she wasn’t as frail as he thought?

The burn began in his chest half way up the hill.

He couldn’t breathe, it was like all the oxygen in the world wouldn’t help him, couldn’t help him. But how could he stop? Iris was right behind him.
And why now?
He’d been inhaler-free for weeks. Iris had to go down Devil’s Hill. But the pain, the intense restriction in his throat was tighter than ever.

Back and forth, his mind contemplated his decision. He couldn’t die on his bike. She would be furious. And then suddenly, the decision
was made
for him; he couldn’t pedal anymore. His legs stopped moving, his arms couldn’t hold the bars. His body needed oxygen. And then he was falling, tripping, fumbling over his bike. It seemed to happen in slow motion, and yet Marshall knew it had been a very quick transaction. He hit the pavement with a thud.

Iris was right behind him and jumped off her bike. It crashed to the ground, and she pulled Marshall off the road onto a neighbor’s front lawn. She put herself on top of his legs, straddling him to keep him from moving, or getting up. He put a hand on his chest and the other one at her “No!” he gasped. He pushed at her; he had to keep her away from getting the inhaler. He didn’t want or need its help.