Chapter 5
“A real gun?” says Emily Riordan. She has dark hair and freckles and green eyes in her caramel-colored face.
“Yeah,” says Braedon. “A twenty-two-caliber pistol that holds ten in the clip and one in the chamber. It’s my grandad’s. He used to be in the guards. But they’re called police here.”
“What’s that rock behind ya?” says Emily.
They FaceTime between Riverwood, Minnesota, and Galway, Ireland. Braedon sits on the same stump he shot the Coke can off of, purposely positioning himself so the bluff is behind him and the sun shining through the river birch makes him look outdoorsy and manly.
“It’s not a rock,” says Braedon. “It’s a bluff made of limestone. That’s why it’s yellowish orange. Dad says the limestone makes the rivers around here extra rich in minerals. That’s why the flies like to lay their eggs in them. And that’s why trout like to live in these rivers. To eat the flies.”
“Flies?” says Emily. “Sounds disgusting.”
“Not those kind of flies,” says Braedon. “They’re mayflies and caddisflies and stoneflies. They don’t bother people. They don’t bite or try to live on dog shit or anything. They’re actually kind of pretty. I’ll take a picture of one and text it to you.”
When Braedon lived in Galway, Emily lived across the street.
They’ve been friends since they were six.
Now that he’s twelve, he’s starting to have more-than-friends feelings for Emily.
And she might have them for him, too. He can’t tell.
Braedon’s friend Daniel says if Emily does have more-than-friends feelings for Braedon, it’s only because she wants Braedon to take her to Disneyland or Universal or something like that.
She’s just using him now because he’s in America.
But Braedon doesn’t believe Daniel. Or maybe he does a little but he doesn’t care.
Daniel’s just jealous he doesn’t ever FaceTime with someone as pretty as Emily Riordan.
“Have you seen any cowboys or Indians?” says Emily.
“Sure,” says Braedon. “Some guys around here work with horses. They wear cowboy hats and jeans with big belt buckles. But not nearly as many here as you’d see in Texas or Oklahoma. And the whole country has Indians but you’re not supposed to call them that.”
“What do you call them, then?”
“Indigenous people. Because they were here first.”
“I don’t think we have those in Ireland,” says Emily. “Just Irish people.”
“Yeah,” says Braedon. “I think that’s right.”
“Like your ma.”
“That’s what Dad says. But I only knew her when I was a baby so I don’t remember. It’s like I never met her.”
“I bet if she ever met you,” says Emily, “she would want to be your ma.” Emily offers Braedon a sad smile.
Even on his tiny phone screen, Braedon can see something nice in Emily’s eyes. “I asked Dad if we can come back for a visit. He said maybe someday.”
“That’d be grand,” says Emily. “We could walk down to Murphy’s for an ice cream. They’re getting new flavors all the time.”
“Perfect,” says Braedon. “I’ll bring my euros. They’re good for nothing over here.”
Emily nods. Makes sense. “You still getting along with your grandad?”
“Yeah. He’s the best. But he’s kind of worried now because my uncle Teddy disappeared.”
“Disappeared? Where’d he go?”
“Don’t know. I saw him two nights ago. But when my aunt Deb woke up yesterday, Teddy was gone. He’s super nice. Everyone likes him. But Dad says Teddy used to get in trouble and sometimes still does.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I guess once he grew some marijuana plants on the land he and Deb live on. And when they got big, he dried them in the pole barn and baked it into cookies and stuff. That was before it was legal here. He had to go to jail for six months. And another time he used to buy stolen guitars and make ’em look different by refinishing them and changing the tuner knobs and stuff and then sell them on the internet.
He was supposed to go to jail for that, too, but the government lawyers did something wrong so he didn’t have to. ”
“So he’s like a good outlaw?” says Emily. “Like he robs and thieves and people still like him?”
“I guess,” says Braedon. “But mostly he’s just nice. He’s teaching me to play guitar.”
“That’s cool,” says Emily. “Hey, do you ever go to Los Angeles?”
“No,” says Braedon. “It’s really far away. It would take days to drive there.”
“Days to drive somewhere in the same country?” says Emily. “How’s that possible?”
“The States are huge. Like as big as a whole bunch of countries over there. Kind of weird.”
“If you ever go to California, maybe you’ll see the Kardashians.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know who they are.”
“Really?” says Emily. “They’re super famous. On the telly all the time.”
Braedon shrugs.
“Oh, hey,” says Emily. “Got to go. Family meeting. We’re going on a trip tomorrow.”
“Where to?”
“Scotland. I wanted to go to Spain but me da says it’s too hot in the summer. But I’ll talk to you from Scotland. And good luck. Hope your uncle shows up and he didn’t do anything bad.”
They end the call, and Braedon heads back up and into the house.
Grandpa Judd’s watching one of his World War II shows on the History Channel.
He turns off the TV and sets breakfast on the kitchen table.
Pancakes and bacon and glasses of orange juice.
It’s all kind of perfect except for the worry Braedon sees on his grandfather’s face.
The lines around his eyes look deeper than usual.
And like they’ve been there for a long time.
Lines that were made by Teddy because Judd always worries about Teddy.
That’s what Clay told Braedon. Judd has worried about Teddy since they were both babies.
Because they have that special bond twins have.
“Smells sick,” says Braedon, hoping to cheer up Judd.
“Sick?” says Judd, a sour look on his face.
“Delicious,” says Braedon. “Sick means good. Great, even.”
“Okay,” says Judd. “My breakfast smells sick. Glad to hear it.”