Enchantment Read online

  “OK. You can always call if you have questions.”

  “Or look them up on the web,” Holly said.

  “Or that. OK, kiddo. Let’s head home.”

  Holly rode in the back seat with the stack of brochures on her lap, listening to her parents talk about the people they knew who’d been at the fair as reps for the schools. Mom’s college, a small school back east, had not been represented. Dad had gone to University of Michigan and then Stanford, but neither of those had been at the fair, either. Holly wondered if her folks would urge her to consider those schools, too.

  Fine. The more the merrier, and the longer she could delay a decision. Though she was thinking more and more that staying here and attending UNM was what she wanted, if she had to pick a school.

  None of it mattered as much as Ohlan. She still hadn’t figured out how to stop the demolition of the spring. Maybe she’d go back to the Forest Service office after school tomorrow, and plead with Mr. Drover.

  Who would ask her why he should delay the project. A very expensive project, already contracted for, no doubt.

  Same old dilemma, and it made her heartsick. She wished she was older, so people would listen to her, or smarter so she could make more convincing arguments.

  The trouble was, she couldn’t tell the truth about Ohlan because no one would believe her. And she didn’t like lying. She was a lousy liar. If she was better at it, she could have made up something that maybe Mr. Drover and her parents would buy. Maybe.

  This kind of thinking only made her miserable. She thought about Ohlan instead, and about when she could see him again. After school Friday. Never mind Mr. Drover. If her time with Ohlan was limited, and it was looking more and more like it was, then she wanted to spend every possible minute with him.

  After school Friday, and maybe another quick visit after the movie. Her folks would assume she was hanging out with her friends.

  Holly leaned forward, resting an elbow on each of the front seats. “The gang wants to go to the movies tomorrow night. That OK?”

  Mom looked at Dad, who said, “As long as you’re caught up on your homework.”

  “I will be.”

  When they got home Holly parked herself on the living room sofa so Mom and Dad would see her looking through college brochures while they watched the ten o’clock news. She picked up the one about UNM’s Las Palomas campus and read through the descriptions of each degree, wondering which one would suit her best.

  In a perfect world, the spring wouldn’t be destroyed and Ohlan would recover his strength. Holly would stay in Las Palomas, and they’d be a couple. Maybe they’d even get married. Her parents would like him if they met him, she was sure. If he was right that most people assumed he was human, Mom and Dad probably would, too.

  So, if all that happened, what would she do for school and a career? What would be the best job for her?

  She glanced at the forestry degree again. Maybe if she got that degree, she could work for Mr. Drover at the Forest Service. She smiled, amused at the idea.

  She could be a forest ranger. Ranger Holly.

  She’d be in the woods a lot, which she liked. And if Ohlan was strong again, he could come see her wherever she was working.

  She was liking this plan. She put down the brochure and looked through the indexes of the other schools’ literature to see whether any of them offered forestry degrees. Only UC did, and California forests were pretty different from New Mexico forests. She was liking this plan a lot.

  She glanced up at her folks, sitting side by side in their matching armchairs, absorbed in the TV. Home. Not wanting to leave home was part of what this was about. She loved Las Palomas, and couldn’t imagine loving any other place as much.

  She gathered her brochures and got up, walked around behind their chairs to give them stealth kisses, and yawned her way to her room. She was tired from the long day and the stress of the whole college question, though now that she was beginning to see possibilities she was less upset about it. She fell asleep almost at once and didn’t wake until she heard a knock on her door.

  That was unusual. She looked at the clock, wondering if she’d overslept, but it was actually a little early.

  “Holly?” Dad’s voice.

  “Just a minute.”

  She dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her slippers, combing her fingers through her hair. When she opened the door she saw Dad standing outside, frowning.

  “What is it?”

  “We need to talk to you. Come on out.“

  She followed him through the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast making her stomach rumble. Mom was sitting at the dining table, looking stressed. Her eyes were a little red. Holly stood beside her own chair, too upset to sit. Dad walked over to the sideboard.

  “What is it?” Holly asked again.

  Dad picked up a piece of paper and handed it to her. “We’d like to know the meaning of this.”

  Holly glanced down and saw her photo of Ohlan, with email headers above. Madison had forwarded it to their folks.

  ~ 14 ~

  Holly pressed her lips together, looking at the photo. The printout didn’t do it justice—the glow was lost. She looked up into Dad’s stern face and swallowed.

  “He’s a friend.”

  “You’re going out with a boy we haven’t met?” said Dad. “You know the rules, Holly.”

  “I’m not going out with him.”

  “You took this photo up in the woods.”

  “I met him there.”

  Dad’s eyes narrowed, and Holly could feel her face burning. While it was technically true that she wasn’t “going out” with Ohlan, she knew that her folks wouldn’t see it that way.

  “How many times have you met him there?” Dad asked.

  “A few,” Holly admitted.

  “Agreeing to meet somewhere is as much a date as going to the movies. Holly, you know we don’t have many rules, but we want you to keep the ones we have. You’re not to date a boy before you bring him to meet us.”

  He can’t come to meet you.

  “I didn’t think it was dating.”

  Lame argument. Dad didn’t bother to challenge it.

  “Who is he, Holly?” said Mom. “A boy from school?”

  Holly shook her head, knowing it would look bad. She couldn’t explain.

  “An older boy?”

  A lot older.

  “Does he have a job?” Mom asked.

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?” said Dad. “Where does he work?”

  Holly nodded toward the picture. “In the forest.”

  “Who’s his employer?”

  She shrugged. “No one.”

  Mom made a small, unhappy sound. Holly couldn’t blame her. They must think Ohlan was a bum.

  “You are grounded, young lady,” said Dad. “No movie tonight, or tomorrow night. You come straight home from school.”

  Stunned, Holly looked up at him. “But—“

  “No buts. And you are not to call this boy.”

  “He doesn’t have a phone!”

  “Fine. You’re not to see him, either. Now you’d better get dressed or you’re going to be late.”

  Anguished, Holly turned and ran to her room. Part of her was in shock that her folks knew about Ohlan. Damn Madison anyway—if she didn’t want to be Holly’s keeper, she should butt the hell out!

  She pulled the door shut behind her and stood staring into space, wondering what to do. She didn’t care about the movie, but she cared a lot about being able to see Ohlan.

  The thought that she’d been toying with—of sneaking out to visit Ohlan at night—returned to her. She’d never defied her parents like that; she’d been a boringly obedient and not-wild child her whole life. Madison was the one who snuck out at night and got into trouble. Madison, the snitch.

  Holly’s eyes narrowed as she contemplated telling the folks about Mad’s smoking in retaliation for her forwarding Ohlan’s photo to them. She savor
ed the thought for a moment, then discarded it. She would be better than Madison. That was a sweeter revenge.

  A soft tap on her door woke her from her reverie. She pulled off her nightshirt and opened her dresser drawer.

  “Holly?” called her mom through the door.

  “I’m getting dressed.”

  “Can I come in?”

  Holly grabbed a t-shirt at random and slammed the drawer. She put on her bra and pulled the shirt over her head, just as she heard the door open and quietly close.

  Mom stood with her back against the door. Ignoring her, Holly strode to her closet. Yesterday’s jeans were clean enough. She pulled them on, then went back to the dresser for socks.

  “Holly … why didn’t you tell us about this boy?”

  Holly sat on the bed to put on her socks and sneakers. “Ohlan. His name is Ohlan.”

  And I tried to tell you about him. You wouldn’t believe me.

  “Holly, are you in trouble?”

  Holly stopped with a sock halfway on one foot, to stare at her mother in amazement. “What? ’In trouble?’ God, Mom, you sound like one of your soap operas! We haven’t done anything, OK?”

  Mom’s eyes closed for a moment. “Honey, I know you’re upset. We’re just trying to take care of you the best we know how.”

  Holly felt a bubble of anger growing inside her. She finished tying her right shoe with a sharp tug on the knotted laces, stood, and picked up her backpack.

  “Am I allowed to have breakfast, or is that part of the punishment?”

  Mom stepped aside. “Of course you can have breakfast.”

  Holly brushed past her and headed for the kitchen. Mom followed, in full-tilt mother-hen mode.

  “We’re not doing this to be mean. We talked about the rules and you agreed to them.”

  Holly grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee, took a sip and scalded her tongue. Grimacing, she put the coffee down to let it cool while she poured cereal into a bowl.

  “You’re becoming a young woman now and we understand that, but you can’t keep secrets about it. Not from us.”

  Holly took a big bite of cereal so she wouldn’t have to answer. She leaned against the counter, crunching. She didn’t want to sit at the dining table with Dad. She could see his hands through the doorway into the dining room, cutting a bite of egg, stirring his coffee.

  Suddenly she just wanted to be away. She dumped the rest of her cereal down the disposal, poured the coffee after it, and rinsed the dishes.

  “Holly—“

  Holly flipped the switch on the disposal as she shot Mom a glare. The grinding whine drowned out whatever Mom was about to say. It would just be the same old thing anyway, and Holly’d had enough.

  She turned off the disposal, shouldered her pack, and headed for the garage. Dad’s voice called after her.

  “Straight home after school, Holly!”

  She didn’t quite slam the door into the garage. Slamming it wasn’t allowed, but she shut it with a pretty sharp snap. Still seething, she wheeled her bike up the driveway and climbed on.

  She was tempted, really tempted, to turn right at the stop sign and go up to the spring. She was afraid her parents might call the school, though, and if they found out she’d ditched, they’d know where to look for her. She didn’t want Ohlan’s first meeting with them to start out with an argument.

  What did she want it to be? She needed to figure that out.

  She spent all morning thinking about it. Maybe she hadn’t ditched classes, but she wasn’t really there, either.

  Problem was, her folks were expecting Ohlan to be a normal boyfriend. The truth—as wonderful as it was—didn’t fit into any normal pattern, and therefore they were assuming the worst.

  At lunch, she sat alone, pretending she didn’t see Debbie and Jen and the gang at one of the long tables. Didn’t work; Jen came marching over and picked up Holly’s tray.

  “Come on, we’re all sitting over here.”

  Holly caught hold of her tray and pulled it back to the table. “Not today. I need some alone time.”

  “But we’re planning tonight! Half of us want to go to Sparky’s and half to Philomena’s. We need a tie-breaker.”

  “Sorry. I can’t go with you guys. I’m grounded.”

  “Grounded? Holy crap!” Jen yielded the lunch tray and sat down across from Holly. “What happened?”

  Holly put the tray down between them. “Long story. Sorry, I’m not in the mood to talk about it.”

  “Oh, Holly! Shit, I’m sorry. It wasn’t us, was it?”

  Holly glanced up at her. For all her I-don’t-care attitude, Jen was actually a softy who cared very much what other people thought of her, though she didn’t let that dictate her wardrobe. She was wearing a black ripped-up t-shirt held together with a couple dozen safety pins. Holly couldn’t help smiling, thinking how her father would have reacted to it.

  “Nope. Unrelated.”

  “When do you get out of the doghouse?”

  “Don’t know. Not this weekend.”

  Jen stood up. “We’ll skip the movie until next weekend.”

  “No, you guys go. I’ll catch up with you when I can.” Holly reached for her chocolate milk and opened it. “Tell the gang I’m sorry.”

  Jen retreated, and Holly drank half her milk before stopping to breathe. She was starving after having only a couple of bites of breakfast, but when she looked at the lunch tray, she couldn’t bring herself to eat.

  A flourish of voices caught her attention. Debbie was out of her seat, edging between crowded benches. Holly grimaced. Dammit, she didn’t want the whole gang to descend on her with awkward expressions of sympathy.

  She stood up and grabbed her pack, abandoning the tray. It was her day to be a bad girl. She chugged the rest of her milk and tossed the carton into a trash can by the door as she made her escape.

  Duck into A wing, jog down the hall to B wing, then outside again and across campus. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Debbie hadn’t followed her. She sighed with relief, then headed for the school library, where she turned in the book she’d borrowed for Ohlan. Lunch period was only half over, so she cruised the aisles looking for another book to take to him.

  Something she considered interesting, he’d said. Her heart started aching as she wandered between the shelves, looking for a book he’d like. She suspected he’d like them all.

  She missed him, and she had failed miserably in the saving-the-spring department. If she couldn’t get her folks to relent, there was a chance she’d never see Ohlan again.

  No.

  She swallowed the sudden tightness in her throat. She was not going to give him up.

  Not going to give up on him, either. There were still things she could do. Less law-abiding, goody-two-shoes Holly type of things.

  Her gaze caught on a title and she pulled the book from the shelf: America’s Narrow Gauge Railroads. In spite of her worries, she smiled. Ohlan would like this one.

  Of course, who knew when she’d be able to get it to him?

  She gritted her teeth and moved on. Stlll fifteen minutes to kill before her next class.

  Wandering through the science section, she found a small group of books about forestry. She chose the one that looked most interesting and carried it to the checkout desk along with the train book.

  Afternoon classes were pretty much a repeat of the morning. Big fail in the note-taking, paying-attention department. Holly brooded, trying to puzzle out how to explain Ohlan to her folks so they wouldn’t freak out. By the end of the day, she still hadn’t come up with anything.

  The sun was hot on her shoulders as she rode slowly home up the long slope of Mountain Drive. Indian Summer, last gasp before the cold weather started settling in. Already there were clusters of yellow leaves peeking through the green of the cottonwoods.

  She wanted to keep going, up to the spring and into Ohlan’s arms, to sit with him in the dappled cool of the glen. Swallowing bitterness, she turned
down her street and coasted home.

  Mom was in the front yard, wearing her big floppy gardening hat, digging in the flower beds. She turned her head as Holly came down the driveway. Holly looked away, pressing her lips together in annoyance, and went inside without saying “hi.”

  The smell of pot roast set her mouth watering as she entered the kitchen. Gee, Mom had decided to make one of her favorite dinners. What a coincidence.

  It felt like a big bait-and-switch. Holly knew Mom didn’t mean it like that, but to her it seemed hypocritical to try to butter her up after grounding her.

  She put her pack in her room and started in on her chores. Mom came in from the garden while she was sweeping the dining room. Holly put away the broom and went to clean the front bathroom. She wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

  She had almost finished her chores by the time Dad came home. Hearing his voice in the entryway calling out a cheery greeting, her first instinct was to lock herself in her room. She didn’t want to see Dad, didn’t want to talk to him.

  She’d have to, though. She had only the weekend to convince him to relent. Mom would probably go along with whatever he decided.

  A plan started shaping itself in her head as she went around the house emptying wastebaskets. She’d thought a lot during the day about how to introduce Ohlan to her folks, what to say. She wouldn’t mention Madison or the way they’d all made fun of her when she talked about him before. One thing that damn photo had done was convince them he was real.

  Now all she had to do was convince them he was good. She couldn’t think of a better way than to get them all in the same place and let her parents see for themselves. If they didn’t see how completely wonderful he was, she’d be very surprised.

  Since Ohlan couldn’t leave the spring, she had to get them to go up there with her. She needed to choose just the right moment to ask—and she’d have to keep her temper.

  That would be the hard part. She still felt mad every time she thought about being grounded.

  “Hey, kiddo!” Dad’s voice sounded a bit too cheerful as he caught up with her in the kitchen. “How was school today?”

  “OK.”

  Holly lifted the bag out of the kitchen trash can, set it on the floor, and shook out a fresh bag, fitting it into the can. She carried the old bag out to the garage and put it in the big trash bin, then rolled the bin out to the curb for the next morning’s pickup.