Heather Gudenkauf - One Breath Away

After he finished feeding the cattle, he went to the big barn where he and Daniel had moved four expecting heifers earlier in the week. Over one hundred calves were due to be born by mid-May. Despite the shelter from the barn walls, the cold had still seeped in and Will worried that some of the new calves might perish in the bitter weather.

Will patted the sleek rump of the heifer. He would have to stay close and check on her throughout the day. He expected a calf by that evening. He looked up at the sound of a shout. Through the wide doorway, Daniel was waving and jogging toward him. Daniel Tucker was an equable, methodical man of around thirty, unmarried and thoroughly dedicated to the animals and the land. He was a great help to Will, had a calm, gentle way around the cattle, was dependable and a hard worker. In addition to helping Will out on his farm, Daniel was renting farmland from Will in order to raise crops, hoping to one day purchase his own slice of Iowa. As Daniel came closer, his normally placid face was creased in concern; Will realized something wasn’t quite right.

“The school,” Daniel said breathlessly, his cheeks red, his nose running from the biting cold. “Something is happening at the school,” he said again, swiping his arm across his nose.

“What happened?” Will felt his heartbeat gathering speed and guiltily he realized that his thoughts went immediately to P.J., Augie a beat later.

“Something about a man with a gun,” Daniel said, and pulled his stocking cap from his head. “My sister just called me, my niece and nephew go to the school—she’s frantic. Said there’s a big crowd of parents at the school trying to find out what’s going on.”

“My daughter-in-law teaches fourth grade at the school,” Will said, pulling his hat from his head. “I need to call my son. You want to go be with your sister?” Will asked, biting his lip.

“Thought you’d want to go check on P.J. and Augie,” Daniel answered, reaching into his coat pocket for a handkerchief and blowing wetly into it. “And Todd’s wife, of course.”

“I’d appreciate that, Dan,” Will answered gratefully. “Numbers 87 and 134 will give birth sometime today. Can you stay near?” Will asked, pointing toward a wide-shouldered black-baldie whose swollen flank and udders looked ready to burst.

“You betcha,” Daniel said, patting his boss on the shoulder. “If you hear anything, let me know.”

The two moved quickly but in silence back toward the house. The only sounds were the wind whistling between the outbuildings and the mild lowing of the cattle, now satiated and huddled together trying to keep warm.

“Who would do such a thing?” Daniel finally asked, stretching his stocking cap back over his ears.

Will shook his head in bewilderment. He knew just about every single person in Broken Branch, and though there were a few mean, crazy sons of bitches, he couldn’t imagine anyone walking into a school with a gun. “Don’t know, Daniel. I’ll go see what I can find out,” he assured him, and went into the house. Will didn’t bother to change out of his coveralls or his dirty work boots but paused to grab the cell phone he seldom used. Then, unaware of the streaks of muck and manure he was trailing across Marlys’s carpet, he made his way into his tiny office. He spun the lock on his Browning gun safe, pulled it open and retrieved his Mossberg 500 pump action shotgun and tucked a box of shells into his pocket. Just in case.

Mr. Ellery steps out of the room and Noah and Justin follow him to the doorway. “Go sit down. Now,” he orders, his voice so serious that even Noah knows better than to disobey him.

“What’s going on?” Beth Cragg asks nervously, chewing on her fingers. Beth is the closest thing to a friend that I have in Broken Branch. Our grandmothers are friends and had unsuccessfully tried to make our mothers into best friends when they were our age. I guess they thought this was their second chance, because ten minutes after P.J. and I arrived at the farmhouse Beth and her grandma showed up with a plate of lemon squares. But I was the one who looked like she had sucked on a lemon when I first met Beth. We seemed so different from each other. Beth is all farm girl. She wears Levi’s and John Deere sweatshirts or McGee Feed Store T-shirts every single day. Beth is one of those girls who is naturally beautiful and doesn’t even know it. She has freckled skin and pulls her shiny brown hair back into a ponytail or twists it into a braid that lies across her shoulder like a thick rope. Whenever I try to wear my hair in a braid it looks like an anorexic rattail. The boys in eighth grade love her because she is still interested in chasing toads and skipping stones across the creek and because she belongs to 4-H and raises calves that she shows at the county fair each summer. She can talk about crops and guns and goes pheasant and deer hunting with her father. All except this year, because of her parents’ divorce. In the past two months, though, we have become friends. Beth is nice and is a good listener. Plus, she was the one person, including my grandpa and P.J., who didn’t make fun of the way I dyed my hair red. Now that’s a true friend. And we do have something in common. Our parents. Mine are divorced and Beth’s mom and dad are getting a divorce. She listens to me while I bitch about having to leave Arizona to live with my grandfather and she complains about how sad her mom is and how her dad tries to make her feel guilty for taking her mother’s side.

“What’s going on?” Beth asks again, her voice shaking. I feel my stomach flip with worry and I think of P.J. Then I think of my mother back in Revelation and I want to talk to her more than anything. My cell phone is in my book bag, which is in my locker out in the hallway, and I wonder if Mr. Ellery will let me go and get it.

“We’re in lockdown,” Mr. Ellery says seriously when he comes back into the room. “Not a drill.” He runs a hand through his black hair and pulls at his goatee. He shuts the classroom door and pushes the round button, locking us in. So much for going to get my phone.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Noah asks in surprise.

“Shhh, I’m thinking.” Mr. Ellery bites his lip and looks out the small window set into the door and then turns back toward us. “Let’s all move back to that corner.” He points to the space behind his desk away from the door and windows.

“Is it someone with a gun?” Felicia asks, her eyes wide.

“Oh, my God,” someone behind me whispers.

“We don’t know that,” Mr. Ellery says quickly.

“We can’t stay in here and wait for someone to come in and blow us away,” Noah says angrily, and I realize how much of a jerk he is all over again.

“No, we stay,” Mr. Ellery says firmly. “Until we get the all clear, we stay.”

Noah looks like he is going to argue, but as one by one everyone stands and goes to the back corner of the room and begins to squeeze themselves into the space between the teacher’s desk and the wall, he decides to follow.

“The boys should sit on the outside,” Savannah says.

“Fuck that.” Noah glares at her. “I’m not going to be anyone’s shield. I want to be as close to the window as I can. I’m going to get the hell out of here first chance I get.”

“Hey, Noah, just cool it,” Mr. Ellery says in a way that makes me think he wouldn’t mind climbing out a window, too. “No one’s going to be anyone’s shield. Does anyone mind sitting on the edges?” Five hands go up, including Beth’s and Drew’s. Slowly I raise mine. “Okay, guys, thanks.” Mr. Ellery nods at us. “Everyone take a seat. No talking.” He flips the light switch and the room turns gray, matching the sky outside.