Running with the Demon - Terry Brooks [63]
Nest reached the Heppler property by climbing a split-rail fence on the north boundary and sprinting across the yard to intercept the gravel drive on its way to the house. The house sat large and quiet in front of her, a two-story Cape Cod rambler with weathered shingle-shake sides and white trim. Patterned curtains hung in the windows, and flowers sprouted in an array of colors from wooden window boxes and planters. The bushes were neatly trimmed and the flower beds edged. The wicker porch furniture gleamed. All the gardening and yard tools were put away in the toolshed. Everything was in its place. Robert’s house looked just like a Norman Rockwell painting. Robert insisted that one day he would burn it to the ground.
But Nest spared little thought for the Heppler house today, Pick’s words and looks weighing heavily on her mind. She had seen Pick worried before, but never like this. She tried not to dwell on how sick the big oak looked, the rugged bark of its trunk split apart and oozing, its roots exposed in the dry, cracked earth, but the image was vivid and gritty in her mind. She raced up the Heppler drive, her shoes churning up the gravel in puffs of dust that hung suspended in the summer heat. Robert’s parents would be at work, both of them employed at Allied Industrial, but Robert should be home.
She jumped onto the neatly swept porch, trailing dust and gravel in her wake, rang the doorbell with no perceptible effect, and then banged on the screen impatiently. “Robert!”
She knew he was there; the front door was open to the screen. She heard him finally, a rapid thudding of footsteps on the stairs as he dashed down from his room.
“All right already, I’m coming!” His blond head bobbed into view through the screen. He was wearing a T-shirt that said Microsoft Rules and a pair of jeans. He saw Nest. “What are you doing, banging on the door like that? You think I‘ m deaf or something?”
“Open the door, Robert!”
He moved to unfasten the lock. “This better be important. I’m right in the middle of downloading a fractal coding system it took me weeks to find on the Net. I just left it sitting there, unprotected. If I lose it, so help me...” His fingers fumbled with the catch. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going swimming with Cass and Brianna. Matter of fact, I think they’re waiting for you. Didn’t Cass call you at your house? What am I, some sort of messenger service? Why does everything always depend on... Hey!”
She had the screen door open now, and she dragged him outside by his arm. “I need a bag of compost and a bag of softener salt.”
He jerked his arm free irritably. “What?”
“Compost and softener salt!”
“What are you talking about? What do you want with those?”
“Do you have them? Can we go look? This is important!”
Robert shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everything is important to you. That’s your problem. Chill out. Be cool. It’s summer, in case you hadn’t noticed, so you don’t have to...”
Nest reached out and took hold of his ears. Her grip was strong and Robert gasped. “Look, Robert, I don’t have time for this! I need a bag of compost and a bag of softener salt! Don’t make me say it again!”
“All right, all right!” Robert was twisting wildly from the neck down, trying not to move his head or put further pressure on his pinioned ears. His narrow face scrunched up with pain. “Leggo!”
Nest released him and stepped back. “This is important, Robert,” she repeated carefully.
Robert rubbed