Squinting, Danny opened his eyes and quickly closed them again. Too much light. He didn’t want to wake up. If only he could sink back into that place of black nothingness—without the terrible dreams. Bad as they were, his nightmares were no worse than waking to the empty ache of reality. When he slept, he didn’t have to see or hear the things that reminded him of the good times. The times with Dad.
        “Mom, make Danny get out here and do his chores,” he heard Mindee shout.
        Danny turned toward the wall and covered his head. His bedroom door flew open.
        “Aha! Just as I thought—lying in bed, rotting!” Mindee yelled. “You need to take responsibility. Your animals would be dead if I didn’t feed them.”
        Danny covered his ears and began humming, louder and louder. When he turned to see if Mindee was gone, he found himself eye to eye with Buddy, the family’s border collie. Buddy whined and cocked one ear. Mindee had left the door wide open.
        “Out!” Danny shouted, choking back a sob. “Get out, now!” Buddy slunk away. Danny closed the door and pushed his chair against it, wedging the back under the door knob.
        Back in bed with the covers tucked under his chin, Danny’s thoughts raced out of control. He didn’t want to think about Buddy. Seeing him brought back memories like a movie playing on the screen in his head. He couldn’t find the stop button.
         The movie panned in on Dad’s smiling face. Then on the wiggling bulge under Dad’s coat. Danny pulled the coat open. There was a black and white ball of fur. A puppy! Dad put it in his arms.


Danny squeezed his eyes tighter and tried to stop the memories that made his chest hurt. But more came—Buddy bounding across the pasture ahead of Dad. Buddy was bigger now, but full of puppy energy. Danny had been after Dad to help him train Buddy to herd cattle like Pete, the ranch dog. Dad called Pete his “right hand man.”
        When Buddy ran after a rabbit, Dad said, “He’s not ready yet, Danny. It’s like making you study engineering, when you haven’t finished first grade math.”
        They followed Buddy into the woods and found him sitting by the river, ears cocked forward as he watched water splash over the rocks. Dad and Danny took off their shoes and waded into the water, coaxing Buddy to follow. Danny slipped and fell, soaking his jeans. The water was cold. Dad laughed and held out his hand. When Danny was about to take it, Dad splashed water in his face. The fight was on. They laughed and splashed until their clothes were soaked.
        The smile faded from Danny’s lips as reality washed away the happy memory. He buried his head beneath his pillow and cried.

“Danny! Danny, dinner’s ready. Open this door. Now! We need to talk.” Mom’s voice woke him hours later. “I mean it, Danny. Open this door.”
        Danny dragged himself out of bed and pulled back the chair. “I don’t want any supper,” he said.
        Mom pushed the door open and held Danny by the shoulders.
        “Look at me, son. This has gone on long enough. You have to eat. Not only that, you need a bath and clean clothes. Phew! Your room stinks. Go take a shower while I change your sheets. Let’s get some fresh air in here,” Mom said, opening the window. Danny started to argue, but a look at Mom’s face stopped him.
        Closing the door to the large bathroom he shared with Mindee, Danny stepped close to stare at the full-length mirror. Freckles stood out on his pale narrow face, and dark circles under his gray eyes made him look like a ghoul. His dirt-colored hair was shaggy and stuck out in every direction. He turned away in disgust and stepped into the shower. As the water ran over his body he tried to keep his mind blank. It didn’t work. His tears mixed with the water that streamed over his face.
        “Use soap and shampoo, Danny,” Mom said from beyond the shower curtain. “Here are clean clothes. And your glasses. They fell out of your sheets. I wish you’d take better care of them. I’m setting them on the table by the door.”
        Danny frowned. He wished he had good eyes like Mindee. Glasses were such a pain. He stayed in the shower until it ran as cold as the river water.
        “How long are we going to wait dinner on the little twerp?” Mindee asked angrily. “I’m starving.”
        Danny stopped in the hallway. Mindee’s name-calling made him mad. Could he help that he was short and skinny? He stared at the linen cloth on the dining room table. Why couldn’t they eat in the kitchen? For a while after Dad left, they avoided sit-down meals, then Mom decided family togetherness was the most important thing in the world. As if the family could ever feel whole again.
        “Don’t be so hard on him,” Mom said “It’s only been two months.”
        “So? It’s been two months for me. It’s been two months for you. You don’t lie in bed doing nothing for days. I don’t neglect my animals. I feed his, too.”
        “It’s hard for all of us, Mindee. But we’re all different, and we each have our own way of dealing with grief,” Mom said.
        “You go to bed and cry all night. I hear you.”
        “For the first two weeks, I couldn’t quit crying,” Mom said so softly, Danny could barely hear her.
        “I don’t get Danny,” Mindee said. “He did his chores at first. He acted like nothing had happened.”
        “That’s because he wouldn’t believe it,” Mom said. “He insisted it was a mistake. Soon we’d hear from the government that they were wrong. He was so sure we’d get another letter from Dad.”
        Danny slid into his place at the table set for three. Though his father’s place had been empty for more than a year—ever since he’d been called to serve in Iraq —the vacant chair seemed to taunt Danny. Mom had cooked his favorite foods; T-bone steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, black olives, and homemade bread. But he couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat. This was Dad’s favorite meal, too. Jumping up from the table he dashed to his room.
         “Danny!”
         He slammed the door. When he heard Buddy scratching on it, he plugged his ears but not soon enough to block out the dog’s whimper. He fell onto his bed and cried himself to sleep.
         “Get dressed, Danny. I want you out here in ten minutes,” Mom said.
         When Danny opened his eyes, sunlight streamed through his east window. He had learned long ago not to argue with Mom’s don’t-try-me voice. He brushed his rumpled jeans and shirt and put on his glasses.
         “Get in the car,” Mom said, handing him a sandwich and a glass of milk. “Eat this on the way. We have an appointment.”
         The PBJ soothed his aching stomach. The milk was fresh and cold. Not until he had finished did he ask, “Where are we going?”
        “I’ve had all I can take of your sulking, Danny. I need help reaching you, so I made an appointment with a therapist.”
         “What kind of therapist?” Danny asked staring at her. He couldn’t get used to her new look. It was like seeing a stranger. She had cut off her sandy colored hair so that it curled around her ears. The mom he remembered had hair to her waist when she let it down. Most of the time, she’d tied it up in a bun or pony tail. He loved watching her brush it. Her face was changed, too. Sharper. The smile was gone.
         “A grief counselor. This person can help you deal with losing Dad, Danny,” Mom said. “You’ll like her, I promise.”
         “I won’t!” Danny exclaimed. “I don’t want to talk about it, especially to a stranger. And I won’t. You can make me go, but you can’t make me talk.”
        “Well, just sit there and listen then. You won’t talk to me. I bend over backward trying to make things special for you. You just hide. What am I supposed to do? Don’t you think I’m hurting, too?”
         “Then you talk to her.”
        “I have been, Danny. For more than a month. I don’t think I could keep going if I didn’t. And I have to for you and Mindee.”
         An angry reply died on Danny’s lips when he saw her blue eyes brimming with tears.

Mrs. Ellen Crenshaw was nice enough, but there was no way Danny could talk to her. In spite of what Mom might have told her, she didn’t know Dad. She had no idea how much Danny missed him. She couldn’t see the hole in his heart that would never be filled. Her questions angered him. Her sweet voice as she tried to trick him into talking made him more determined that he would not say a word.

When they arrived home, Mindee trudged across the wide barnyard to the garage, leading her horse, Buttons. She looked like she’d been crying. Strands of her long brown hair had escaped the single braid. Mindee kept brushing it from her suntanned face.
        “I need help,” she said. “The cows got into Mr. Hayworth’s meadow. I’ve been trying for an hour to get them out, but every time I get them close to the hole in the fence, they turn and run back.”
        “Saddle Dragon, Danny. I’ll get the four-wheeler. It’ll take all of us to get them in,” Mom said.
        “But, Mom. I can’t…” Danny began.
        “No more excuses, son. Some of those cows are yours. We need your help.”
        Danny trembled as he approached his gray gelding, Dragon, who stood alone in the corral. He hadn’t ridden since they got the news of his Dad’s death. He had made up his mind that he wouldn’t ride until he could ride with Dad. It hurt his heart to look at Dragon. He opened the gate and ran at the horse, screaming. Dragon tore out of the corral. Buddy, who was trotting after Buttons, chased Dragon. Soon both the horse and the dog were out of sight.
        Mindee galloped back from the pasture and didn’t stop Buttons until he was almost on top of Danny. “How in the world did your horse get away from you?” she demanded. “Now I’ve got to go chasing after him before we can get the cows in.”
        “Never mind Dragon,” Danny said. “I can help just as much on foot.”
        “Yeah, right. Buddy’s more help than you, and he’s no help at all. I wish we still had Pete. He would’ve gotten the stupid cows in by himself.” Mindee turned Buttons and sped away.
        Buddy had never become the cow dog Pete had been. That’s my fault, too, Danny thought. But how was I to know Dad was going to leave and quit helping me? He remembered the sad day Pete had died; the only time he’d ever seen his father cry.
         Danny slogged through last summer’s dead grass in the neighbor’s river pasture. The cattle were scattered among willow and aspen trees. They ignored Danny. Mom and Mindee finally headed them back through the gate onto their ranch. Mom stayed to mend the fence. She told Danny, “Go back to the barn and do the feeding. Mindee’s had about all she can deal with in one day.”
         “But Mom, he won’t do it right. I’d better make sure,” Mindee said.
         “I can do it right,” Danny yelled. “I’ve done it before, haven’t I?”
         “So long ago you don’t even know how many calves we have. I bet you didn’t even know Nancy had a heifer,” Mindee taunted.
         Danny scanned the herd until he saw Nancy . She had been a bottle-fed calf when Dad bought her. Danny had asked for a Hereford calf like Mindee raised for a 4-H project. “Not a steer, Dad. I don’t want to sell it when it grows up,” Danny had said. Dad gave him Nancy , along with extra chores to pay for her. He’d won a blue ribbon at his first 4-H fair when Nancy was a yearling. Now she was almost three, and a curly-haired, white-faced calf trotted by her side. Danny was glad it was a heifer until he remembered it didn’t matter. I’ll sell them, he thought. I’ll get rid of everything that reminds me of Dad.
         “This just isn’t working,” Mrs. Crenshaw told his mother in low tones after the third meeting. Maybe she thought that since Danny didn’t talk, he couldn’t hear, either. She handed Mom a business card. “I suggest you call this psychologist. I’ve heard he does wonders with children, especially boys.”
        Neither Mom nor Danny spoke on the drive home. Danny could see that Mom was furious. He stared out the window. Near the horizon, he saw two clouds that looked like ocean liners plunging through frothy waves. He wished he could tell Mom. Finding cloud pictures was a game he’d learned from her and Mindee. The three of them would lie on the lawn, heads together, and look up. He remembered the first time. Mom said, “A butterfly, Mindee? That cloud? It looks like a dinner roll to me. What do you think Danny?” Danny saw nothing but fuzzy white blobs. After that, Mom got him glasses, and like magic, the world came into focus. Then he was as good at finding cloud pictures as Mom and Mindee.
        Danny glanced at Mom’s angry profile. She wasn’t the same anymore. When Dad died, Danny lost his mother and sister, too.
        Several framed diplomas covered the walls of Dr. Henry’s office. The psychologist was as angular as his wall hangings. His square face, dark mustache, and bushy hair were reflected in the desktop. Danny couldn’t look directly into the dark eyes that blazed from beneath the thick eyebrows.
        “Hello, I’m Doctor Henry, but if it makes you more comfortable, you may call me Stuart.” He paused, expectantly. Danny looked at his hands folded in his lap. “I hear you didn’t feel like talking to your previous therapist, Danny. I want you to understand that I will not be able to help you if you don’t tell me how you are feeling. Do you think you can do that?”
        Danny glanced at the man’s frown and quickly looked back down.
        “Danny?” Dr. Henry prompted. “I need an answer before we can go any further. You must cooperate with me for your own healing. Will you talk? Danny? Will you answer my questions?”
        Danny shook his head.
        I didn’t like him either. I can’t imagine why Ellen recommended him,” Mom said, as she drove home. “But Danny, I’m not giving up. There has to be someone in this town who can help you. I know you’re sad. We’re all sad. But we have to learn how to go on living. I let you stay out of school because I understood how hard it was for you. But, it’s been a long time, and you seem stuck, Danny. You won’t talk to me, so I don’t know how to help you.”