The Song of David

Henry jumped and turned, startled at the vehemence in my voice. There was no way I was letting anything interrupt what was going on behind that door.

“Don’t go in there. Millie’s with Tag. And we need to leave them alone for a while.”

Henry looked at the closed door and looked back at me. He nodded his head slowly. I got us both a cold can of Coke from the fridge and handing one to him, put my arm around his shoulders and steered him back out of the house. We sat out on the deck, putting our feet up on the railing so we could watch Georgia work while we downed our drinks. I loved watching Georgia work.

“Axel has never ridden a horse,” Henry remarked, clearly thinking about the evening before, when Axel and Mikey had delivered Tag’s truck, uncertain of where to stow it in Salt Lake, with everything up in the air like it was.

“Nope. Did you show him how it’s done?” I knew Henry had shown off a little, but I wanted to give him a chance to talk about it. Tag hadn’t come down when the guys arrived. It was a miracle he was talking to Millie now.

“Yep. I show him things, he shows me things,” Henry said, nodding. “I’m part of the team.”

It was my turn to nod. Tag had assembled an amazing group of guys. And the coolest thing about them was how they all treated Henry.

“There is no ‘i’ in team,” Henry said suddenly, seriously, as if repeating something he’d heard at a school pep rally. Or maybe he’d heard it in the gym.

“Nope.”

“There is no ‘i’ in Tag Team either,” he added.

“Nope. There isn’t,” I agreed.

“Are we Tag’s team?” he asked.

I started to explain what Tag Team was, the label, the fighters, the gym. And then I stopped myself. “Yeah. We are. We’re Tag’s team.”

“Because we love him?”

“Yeah,” I said, getting choked up all over again. I was so tired of being overcome with emotion. But Henry had a way of sneaking up on me and saying the obvious, and saying it in such a way that it seemed profound. In Vegas, Millie had explained Tag’s condition to him the best she could, and he had come to me asking to go to a barber so he could get his hair cut like Tag’s. I hadn’t really known why he’d wanted to. I’d just thought it was just a case of hero worship. But Millie had been stunned by Henry’s desire to cut his hair. Apparently it wasn’t something that came easily to him. I realized now that it was his way of lending moral support, of being part of Tag Team. I watched as Georgia climbed over the fence and started toward us, grateful that I’d have her moral support momentarily.

“There is an ‘i’ in David, though,” Henry said simply, as if that negated the whole “I in team,” argument.

I laughed—a loud bark of relief that had him tipping his head toward me in curiosity. “You were doing so well, kid. I thought you were going to inspire me,” I snorted, still laughing, and relieved to be doing so.

“There isn’t an ‘i’ in Henry,” he said blandly.

“Or Moses,” I added, unable to stop chuckling. “We’re the selfless ones,” I explained.

“There’s an ‘i’ in Georgia,” Henry said, as Georgia joined us on the deck.

“Yep. And don’t I know it. Me, me, me. All the time,” I said, pulling on Georgia’s hand and bringing her in close to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my lips gently.

“Where’s Millie?” she asked, not taking my bait.

“She’s with Tag,” Henry volunteered. “And we’re leaving them alone.”

Georgia’s eyes shot to mine and her eyebrows rose.

“Oh yeah?” There was hope in her voice.

“Yeah. And Millie wasn’t being gentle,” I added softly. But Henry still heard.

“There’s no such thing as a timid fighter,” Henry parroted. “That’s what Tag says. And he says Amelie fights every damn day.”

“Hallelujah and praise the Lord for that,” Georgia said, sounding just like my great-grandma Kathleen. They were both small-town Levan girls who had spent a good deal of their lives as neighbors. So I guess it wasn’t surprising.

“Amen,” I agreed.

“Muhammad Amelie,” Georgia joked. “Floats like a butterfly . . .”

“Stings like a bee,” Henry and I finished.

“I’m going to go check on Kathleen,” Georgia said, easing away from us. I knew she was going to eavesdrop at the guest bedroom door on her way to Kathleen, but I didn’t call her on it, hoping she’d report back. Henry stood too and wandered back out to the corral to commune with Sackett, who walked to the fence to greet him.

From the corner of my eye I saw a pulse, a shimmer, like the air above the black top on a sweltering day. My neck got hot, and instead of resisting, I opened myself up to the summoning flicker, curious instead of afraid. It wasn’t Molly this time.

I recognized her, though I’d only seen her once before. She showed me lace. Just lace. A billowing swath, and then she was gone. But I understood, and for the first time since Tag disappeared, the vise around my heart eased slightly.