In Open Spaces Read Online Free PDF Page B

Katie needed cheering up, I knew what would do it.
    We all ate with ferocious, focused energy, as we usually did after a hard day of work. One chair, next to Dad, stood empty.
    “When are you going to go back to school, Blake?” Katie asked.
    I cleared my throat. “Well, I don’t think I’m going back,” I said.
    All heads rose, and my mom’s hand fell, her fork clanging against her plate. “What?” she asked.
    I finished chewing a mouthful of food, and swallowed. “I’m not going back. I’m going to stay.”
    Although I could see the confusion in my mother’s face, she looked down at her plate, took a deep breath, and resumed eating.
    “He’s right, Mother. We’re going to need him now,” Dad said.
    “Yes,” she said. “Yes. Of course.” She took a bite of eggs and chewed, but her dream of having one child finish high school had been dashed one more time. George had never even considered the possibility, leaving school when he was twelve. And although Jack would have liked to stay in school because it was easier than working, by the time he was fifteen, they needed the extra back. He was barely passing anyway.
    “I don’t want to go to Belle Fourche, either,” Katie announced. “I want to stay here, too.”
    “Well, you’ve got a few years to think about that, honey,” Dad said.
    “I don’t have to think about it,” Katie said. “I already know.”
    “I bet you’ll think twice when Audrey goes,” I said, and although Katie said nothing, I could see the wheels turn at the mention of her best friend.
    “You’re going, and there will be no more talk about it,” Mom said.
    Katie rolled her eyes.

    After breakfast, I stumbled to my room, where I stretched my tired limbs and dropped my clothes. The fall air chilled my skin, and I wrapped my arms around my chest. Standing in the middle of the room, I gazed down at George’s bed for the second time that morning.
    Just then, a figure swept past the window, swearing. It was Jack, who walked over to dip some water from the well. He had cut his thumb, and he muttered to himself as he washed it off, then studied it. After washing his thumb, Jack shook it in the air, then he suddenly stooped down, grabbed a dirt clod, and flung it with all his strength into the well. Then he stopped, and with his back to me, raised his hands to his head. Both hands landed palm down on top of his head, and rested there for a moment. Then they clamped down, clasping the hair on his head. He raised his eyes toward the sky and stood there like that for a long time, his hands tangled in his hair.
    Because my head was still foggy, and because I simply didn’t think about these things much at the time, it didn’t occur to me then that Jack was now next in line to take over the ranch. I’d heard stories through the years of battles for land among siblings. But I thought that would never happen in our family. We were a family first and foremost. Little did I realize that the history of my father’s family was anything but harmonious.
    I turned away from the window, and sank onto my bed, where I spotted George’s baseball cradled in a hollow among the blankets. And I struggled to accept the standard practice of my family and the people around me—the pragmatic, realistic approach to death, where you move on and do what’s in front of you, recognizing that there’s little time for mooning around thinking about things you have no control over.
    I circled George’s ball with my fingers and laid down, falling immediately into a deep sleep, and when I woke up hours later, still lying in exactly the same position, the ball had fallen from my hand and rolled across the floor, resting against the bedroom door.

2
summer 1917
    “B lake, take me fishing tonight.” Katie stood next to my chair, bouncing up and down, her sausage curls unfurling with each bend of the knee. “Pleeeeease.”
    I slowly scooped fried potatoes into my mouth. My hands were so stiff and blistered that