Desert Crossing by Elise Broach Read Free Book Online Page B

But she’s dead. The girl is dead. So now we’re here and we’ve been talking to the police. And Mom said, well, Mom wondered if maybe you could come…”
    As soon as I said it I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t want to ask and hear him say no, even though the reason would be a good one, and when he explained, it would make so much more sense for him to stay in Phoenix and for us to work things out on our own. I held the phone closer. “But, um, probably you don’t need to do that. I mean, we’re at this woman’s house and things are sort of under control now. But we won’t get to Phoenix tonight. We have to stay until—” A long, sullen tone cut me off. The machine clicked.
    I carried the phone back into the living room, which was filled with the smell of fresh paint. Beth knelt on the speckled drop cloth, her face tense with concentration. She had a brush in one hand and was dabbing the bottom of the sculpture with turquoise.
    â€œThat’s pretty,” I said. “That color.”
    She didn’t look up. Jamie and Kit were sprawled on the couch, watching her.
    â€œDid you get him?” Jamie asked.
    I shook my head. “I left him a message.”
    â€œThat’s okay. We can try him again later.”
    I held out the phone to Kit. “Want to call your parents now?”
    Kit kicked at a pile of newspapers. “Maybe later.”
    I walked past them and sat on the floor, next to the wild twist of metal at the base of the sculpture. It was hard to figure out what it was made of, but when I looked closely, I could see a tailpipe, two dented license plates, and something that looked like a barbecue grill.
    â€œWhen do you think we’ll get our car back?” I asked.
    Jamie frowned. “When they get the lab results, I guess.”
    â€œAre they…” I swallowed. “Did they say anything about the beer? They aren’t going to … arrest you or anything?”
    Kit blew out his breath hard. “God, you’re so negative.” He turned to Jamie. “I can see why you didn’t want to drive the whole way with her by yourself.”
    I looked at Jamie, stung. But he was ignoring us, watching Beth paint.
    â€œSo why do you use car parts and pipes and stuff?” he asked.
    She moved the paintbrush over the steel with bold strokes. “I like using things people get rid of,” she said.
    Kit trapped a sheet of newspaper under one foot and slid it back and forth on the floor. “How come? I mean, I’ve seen things like this before, made out of metal. You could get a piece of stainless steel, brand new, and really do something cool with it. None of this crap with old license plates.”
    Jamie smacked his shoulder. “Shut up.”
    â€œHey,” Kit said, rubbing it. “I was just asking.”
    Beth sat back on her heels and balanced the paintbrush between her thumb and forefinger. She looked from Kit to Jamie. “That’s all right. People are entitled to their opinions. This isn’t for everyone.”
    â€œWhat is it?” I asked. “What’s it called?”
    â€œJoshua Tree. I do natural forms. That’s the point. Nature out of machines.”
    I could see it then. The twist of the trunk, the way the pieces of metal gave it a texture, roots, bark.
    Jamie leaned forward, smiling at her. “I like it. It’s different.”
    Beth shrugged. “This is just the base. I do it in pieces.”
    Kit cocked his head to the side. “It doesn’t look like a tree.”
    â€œWhen I put the whole thing together, it will.”
    â€œBut I still don’t get it. Why do you use junk?”
    Beth considered him for a minute. I knew she was trying to decide whether it was worth having this conversation. I felt like warning her that it wasn’t.
    She went back to painting. It was hypnotizing to watch. Her hand was so steady, so sure of what it was doing. I