The Secret Wisdom of the Earth

“Mom told me she had to finish the weeding, so she got out Josh’s harness and put him in it and tied the leash to the bumper of my dad’s car, since it was the only thing in the yard to tie him to. She got him his red dump truck to play with and went back to her weeding. And Josh was happy just playing with his truck on the driveway; he probably didn’t even know he was tied to the bumper. I started cutting the grass again, only I put the blades on medium and cut it slow like I should. I went back and forth across the front yard, and Josh was playing with his truck in the driveway. You know those tractors, they’re so loud when you’re on them it’s like everything else in the world is silent. Know what I mean?”

 

“Yeah, I seen em.”

 

“Well I was going back and forth across the front, being really careful this time, and Josh was playing with his red truck, like I said. He was being a good kid like he’s supposed to be. Just playing with his truck like a little boy. I cut one way and turned and started cutting the other way, going toward him, and saw that he was standing up now, just standing up holding his truck over his head and watching me. Just standing there holding up the truck. Only as I got closer I could see that it wasn’t the truck he was holding; it was the old red gas can I’d left out on the driveway—I’d forgotten to put it back in the garage. He was just standing there looking at me and holding up that red gas can. He must have thought it was water, because he turns it upside down and the gas pours out all over him. He must have thought it was water the way he looked at me… questioning, sort of. Then he starts crying… I guess it must have stung his eyes or something. He was soaked from the gas, just standing there holding the gas can up over his head and crying.”

 

I stopped and looked over at the undulating wall of the cave. The light from the fire and the shadows from the light made the curves and bumps of the wall come alive into seven stern old faces watching my every move. Seven elders sitting in judgment over my telling—all of them nodding with the pulsing fire, as if they understood perfectly but intended to pass judgment nonetheless.

 

“You don’t have to tell me the rest. We can jus go if you want.”

 

But I knew I couldn’t stop. I had to get it out of me. “He was holding up that gas can, the dummy, because he thought it might have been water or something. I yelled to Mom, but she couldn’t hear because the mower was so loud, and Josh, he just dropped the can like it was some poisoned toy or something, just dropped it right on the driveway. That’s when she looked up.”

 

I stopped and swallowed on that Saturday afternoon memory as it rushed in from the edges of my mind. As it is rushing into me now, so many years later.

 

“You know how when sunlight is really bright sometimes you can’t even see flames? Like the sun won’t let anything burn brighter than itself.”

 

Buzzy nodded.

 

“That’s what Josh was like. When he dropped the can it sparked and set all that gas on fire. The sun was so bright I couldn’t even tell that he was burning at first, except for his hair. His hair just shriveled up like it was being pulled back inside his head. He opened his mouth to scream, but he couldn’t. He just looked at me all confused. Mom couldn’t see the flames either. Just his hair shriveling and Josh not even crying or anything, just standing there. After a second his clothes caught fire, and that’s when the flames came. They shot up in a whoosh about six feet in the air and became like a cocoon around him, and he was still just standing there with his mouth open, just looking at me all puzzled as he burned.” I took up Buzzy’s stick and pushed the coals around some more.

 

“Everything moved in slow motion after that. I know I was on him in a second, but it seemed like the faster I ran, the farther away he got. I finally reached him, knocked him down in the grass, and smothered him until the flames went out. My father came out cause he heard my mom screaming. And man, was she screaming. She couldn’t even move, just stood there screaming as if she was the one burning. My dad knew it was bad and laid Josh in the backseat of the car and we took off for the hospital. I rode in the back with him the whole way there. And poor Josh wasn’t even crying. He was just looking up at me with his face all red and burned and he was shaking all over like the flames had taken all the heat out of him. He was so brave, he didn’t even cry. Didn’t even cry.” I paused and swallowed again to keep my own tears down.

 

“Josh lived for three days in the hospital; then he died. That’s my secret.”

 

 

 

We negotiated our way back to the tree house in the nearly full moon. At the great oak we stopped and leaned against the tree under light diffused by the branches. I felt as if my soul, scarred and leaden from lies and bitter truths, had been finally turned loose. It seemed even breathing was easier after the telling.

 

“I’m gonna sleep up here tonight. You goin home still?” Buzzy asked.

 

I nodded.

 

“I’m sorry what happened to your brother, Kevin,” he said quietly.

 

“I’m sorry about your brother too.”

 

“What do you mean? He ain’t dead.”

 

“Yeah, but now he’s got to figure out how to live with it.”

 

Buzzy didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, unblinking.

 

I continued, “Buzz, sometimes telling’s not a bad thing, you know.”

 

“I know,” he said. Then after a few seconds, “You sure you don’t wanna sleep up here tonight?”

 

“Naw, I’m going home.”

 

“I’m gonna sleep up here tonight.”

 

“All right, man. Later.”

 

“Later,” he said and was halfway up the tree before the echo died in the night.

 

The moon gave me enough light in which to walk back home. The town was quiet. In the distance I could see 22 Chisold looming iceberglike in the dark. The sky was pilloried in stucco clouds that occasionally blocked the stars. I eased up the front porch steps and opened the screen door. The front door was unlocked and the hallway table lamp was on. It worried me because Pops was always careful about locking down and turning things off at night. On the table under the lamp was a note: Kevin, I left the door open in case Rebah Deal chases you boys out of the Telling Cave. Please lock the door and turn off the light.—Pops.

 

I did both and quieted to the second floor, pausing on every creaking step. I slid into my darkened bedroom. The smell of campfire on my clothes. The smell of burning hair in my head.

 

 

 

 

 

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