Arthur’s home is a half mile away. At the top of the hill that separates their two houses, Ruth slows. This is where she stops every Saturday morning and scans the tightly knit rows of winter wheat sprouts that etch the fields, hoping for a glimpse of Julianne Robison. Tattered yellow ribbons tied to a dozen fence posts along the road by the high school kids in the early days following Julianne’s disappearance remind Ruth how long the child has been gone. Too long. But still Ruth watches for her from the top of the hill.
There are other reminders besides the yellow ribbons. The flyers with Julianne’s black and white picture, wrinkled and faded, that still cling to the telephone poles along Main Street. The car wash that the Boy Scouts held a month ago. They gave the money to Mary and Orville. Mary said she would tuck it away for a rainy day. The abandoned well that James Williamson reported last Sunday. Floyd Bigler and a half dozen of the town’s men gathered around the hole while their women gathered at the church just in case. But the men found nothing and backfilled the hole with crushed rock and cement.
Careful to avoid the soft ruts carved by the truck that drove past, Ruth walks to the edge of the road and fingers one of the yellow ribbons. On her next trip to Arthur’s house, she’ll bring along some yellow fabric scraps and tie them over the tattered plastic ribbons. She scans both sides of the road, counting the ribbons so she’ll know how many to cut. And then she hears it. Yelling, shouting. It sounds like Arthur. She walks to the center of the road and from there she sees them.
Arthur is running down the hill, away from Ruth. He is waving and shouting at Daniel, who is running along the other side of the road, trailed by Evie. Between them, Olivia the cow weaves left and right, first toward Arthur and then toward Daniel. Near the bottom of the hill, where gravity seems to get the better of him, Arthur tries to slow down but slips in the mud instead. He stumbles, arms shooting up into the air, both feet flying out from under him, and lands on his hind end. Daniel stops, coming up a few steps short of his father, and leans over, resting both hands on his knees. This gives Evie time to catch up. Arthur holds up one hand as if to quiet them and pushes himself off the ground. He shakes the dirt from his boots and stands straight, his muddy hands hanging at his sides.
As the commotion settles down, Olivia stops a few feet in front of them. She drops her head and nuzzles something on the ground. Everyone seems to be resting until Arthur suddenly breaks into a sprint, slipping and stumbling for several strides before finding his footing. Olivia startles, jerks her head, throws her hind legs into the air, kicking up mud and gravel, and begins to run. Daniel and Evie duck, both holding their hands over their faces and run after their father. Ruth hugs her bread and laughs. She laughs, without making any sound. She laughs until tears pool in the corner of each eye. She laughs until she hears another truck.
Up ahead, Jonathon drives around the curve in the road. Daniel stops running, leans forward and props himself up by bracing his hands on his knees. Jonathon parks his truck at an angle, blocking the road. Through the windshield, Daniel sees Elaine sitting in the center of the front seat, nearly in Jonathon’s lap. Since the afternoon Jonathon loaded Olivia in his trailer and followed Uncle Ray to Grandma Reesa’s, he has been at their house almost every day. He comes straight from work and stays for dinner, always talking about the house he is building from scraps and spare parts. He’s been around so much that he has become Dad’s extra set of hands. Before they moved from Detroit, Dad said that the farm would turn Daniel into a man, that it would roughen up his hands and put hair on his chest. Instead, Dad found Jonathon, who is already a man, and Daniel is still Mama’s extra set of hands.
Elaine is smiling as Jonathon slowly and quietly opens his door and slides out of the truck. She follows, both of them stifling their laughter so they don’t startle Olivia, who has stopped in the center of the road. The truck has confused her or maybe she is plain tired out.
“Give you a hand, Arthur?” Jonathon says, tugging on his gray hat.
“We’ve got her from this side,” Dad says and motions Daniel to close the gap between them and the cow.
“I’d say this old gal has had about enough.” Jonathon bends to look into Olivia’s face. He takes two steps forward, reaches out with one hand and grabs her neck strap. “Yep, good and tired.”
“How many times is that, Dan?” Elaine says, standing next to Jonathon and hooking a finger onto one of his belt loops. “Three?”
“Why’d you get so made up to go fishing?” Daniel says as Dad walks over to take the lead from Jonathon.
“Get over here, Dan,” Dad says, giving Elaine a second look. She is wearing a lavender dress and her brown hair hangs in soft waves the way it does when she sleeps in rag curlers. “You two catch anything?”
“Daddy, don’t be silly,” Elaine says. “Who fishes in the rain?”
“Daddy fishes in the rain all the time,” Evie says, smiling up at Jonathon. He tugs one of her braids.
“Caught a lot of fine fish in the rain,” Dad says, holding onto Olivia and studying Elaine. Olivia snorts and tosses her head. Dad jerks her lead. “Hold up there, girl.”
Daniel thinks maybe Dad will forget to ground him since Elaine is too dressed up for fishing.
“We went to my mother’s for breakfast, sir,” Jonathon says, patting Olivia’s jowl. “She enjoys the company.”
“Good enough,” Dad says. “Daniel, get this animal home.”
“Yes, sir,” Daniel says, wrapping both hands around the leather lead.
“Are you coming to Grandma’s for lunch tomorrow?” Evie asks Jonathon. She twirls a braid around her finger, the same braid Jonathon tugged. “She makes fried chicken. Daddy says it’s the best ever.”
“Imagine so, squirt,” Jonathon says, giving Evie a pat on the head and turning on one heel to leave.
“Don’t forget to latch the gate, Dan,” Elaine says, laughing and still hanging onto Jonathon’s belt loop as they walk back to the truck.
While Dad directs Jonathon so his truck won’t get stuck in one of the muddy ditches, Evie waves goodbye and Daniel pulls Olivia until her head turns toward home. Thinking he’ll check for mail because Mama says his old friends are sure to write any day now, Daniel stops at the mailbox, tugs open the small door and looks inside. Empty. Not a single letter since they moved. Already, every Detroit friend has forgotten him. He shakes his head, gives Olivia’s lead another yank to get her moving and looks up. There, at the top of the hill, he sees them.
“Hey, Dad,” he says, squinting up the road. “Isn’t that Aunt Ruth up there?”
At the top of the hill that separates Aunt Ruth and Uncle Ray’s house from their house, Uncle Ray has parked his truck and is standing next to the passenger side door, which is open. At first, Daniel thinks Uncle Ray has come to help catch Olivia, too-that Dad has called out the whole county to run her down. But then he sees Aunt Ruth standing at the side of the road. Her shoulders are hunched forward as if she is carrying something and she looks no bigger than Evie from so far away. Uncle Ray motions for Aunt Ruth to get into the truck but instead she stares down the road where Daniel stands with Olivia. Daniel looks over at his cow. Her chestnut coat is slick and shiny, her breath comes in short, heavy snorts. She hangs her head, then looks up at Daniel with her brown eyes and bats her thick, black lashes.
When Daniel looks back, Aunt Ruth is gone. The truck door is closed. And Uncle Ray is walking back to the driver’s side. He pauses as he passes in front of the truck, waves down at Daniel and his family and slips inside the cab. Evie jumps up and down, waves her hands over her head. Dad watches as the truck rolls backward down the far side of the hill. He is looking for something, though Daniel isn’t sure what.