“Panties in a twist, Wayne?” asked Bede with a not very nice smile.
Wayne just about lunged at Bede, and didn’t seem afraid of him at all. Micha jumped up and separated them without a qualm, in spite of being shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than either of them. After which, the meeting carried on withmeandering discussions about the end-of-summer certificates, fake job applications, and the riding lessons.
“Are those going to start on Monday?” asked Micha. He looked straight at Cal, which was when Cal sat up, like he really cared about the answer.
“Sure,” he said. “Zeke and I will be ready.”
“I understand the schedule will be posted in the mess tent and at the paddock,” said Micha in his quiet way, as if he wanted to remind everyone in terms of group that those lessons were available.
“You heard right,” said Cal, though he really had no idea.
The dull meeting ended and Cal went to the paddock to help Zeke divide hay bales into flakes that they loaded into wheelbarrows and carted out to the fields to feed the horses for the evening.
Galen’s team also helped them with that and filled the water tanks, and then together they raked the pasture and the paddock and oiled their tools and put them away.
“You have tomorrow off,” said Zeke to Cal as they finished up. “All the parolees do.”
“Hooray!” shouted Toby, as if the comment had been directed at him.
With a bray of laughter, Toby and Owen raced each other to the mess tent, while Galen and Bede followed behind, disappearing into the trees.
Which left Zeke and Cal quite alone in the woods as the sun slanted through the pines and lazy dust motes swung in the air like weightless diamonds.
“What about the horses?” asked Cal. “Who takes care of them on Sundays?”
“The team leads rotate through that task,” said Zeke. “You’re welcome to help if you want, but it’s important to have a day off, too.”
A break in the routine was always a good thing in prison. Not so much in the valley. The routine had started sending signals to his body that it was okay to relax. That he didn’t have to be on guard all the time. With Sunday off—with an entire day off—what the hell was he supposed to do with himself?
But maybe that’d give him time to get over his crush on Zeke, and return to planning his getaway.
On Sunday morning, he had a late breakfast, then took a shower and, with his wet hair still dripping down the back of his neck, he made his way back to his tent. There he sat on his cot, hands relaxed, dangling against his thighs.
His mind was about to go rabbiting off on how he could manage to get a bus ticket to anywhere with no money when he spotted the Tandy box with the moccasin kit inside.
On impulse, he stood up to grab the box, and sat down on his cot and opened it, spreading the items on his cot: large twist of leather thread, thick leather needle, the cut out pieces of the moccasins, both soles and tops, and the instructions.
The instructions made it look easy. You used the long, thin strip of leather to sew the soles and tops together, starting with hole number one. Then you continued from there.
Except, from there, the instructions stopped explaining it exactly, saying only,Continue on in the same manner, making sure to keep the lace flat.
This was so vague, Cal lost track along about the fourth hole in the sole, which he’d attached to the fifth hole on the top. He had to unlace the thread and start again. And then another time after that, until his vision blurred, and he rubbed his eyes so hard he saw sparks.
In the back of his mind he knew that he’d wanted to finish the moccasins, and then wear them down to the paddock, or wherever Zeke was, and show off a bit.
He’d always been good with his hands, at least on a computer he had been. But he’d be at it for days and days and still wouldn’t be done, let alone figure out how to attach the colorful beads in the bag Maddy had given him.
He was curled over, feeling quite stiff and old as he undid the leather thread for the zillionth time, when a shadow appeared at the opening of the tent. Cal looked up to see Zeke there, standing just outside the tent flap, head ducked to look in at Cal, but not entering.
“Come on in,” said Cal, feeling the rush of Zeke’s sweet energy sweeping over him.
When Zeke stepped inside the tent, it was as if he’d brought a whole lot of blue sky with him.
“It’s coming on lunch time,” said Zeke. “I didn’t want you to miss out. It’s just sandwiches, but still, you need to eat.”
Zeke came close and was just about tall enough to knock the hanging bulb with his head.
Cal had to look up at Zeke’s face. It looked like Zeke had missed a spot shaving, and he had a bit of hay in his dark hair from the paddock, and he smelled like horses and leather.
