He Started It(27)

“A baby is not a dog,” Mom said.

“But why? What’s wrong with just us?” Nikki said.

“Nothing’s wrong with anyone,” Dad said.

“It will be great,” Mom said. Her voice was tight, like she was angry. Maybe at us, maybe because we didn’t give her the right reaction. “Everything will be great. I promise.”

I didn’t know if it would be or not. I was the youngest, and sometimes it was horrible because there were so many things I couldn’t do. But being the youngest wasn’t the worst thing, either, because I got a lot of attention. I knew that would change.

Nikki narrowed her eyes, stuck out her chin. “I’m not changing diapers.”

“No one asked you to do a thing,” Mom snapped.

Nikki smiled like she had won.

“So are we good?” Mom said. “Everyone good?”

We all said we were, just like we all said it to Krista.



* * *



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    Felix scribbles out a car-watch schedule on a napkin. Five-hour shifts, long enough to give the others time to rest but not long enough for the person on watch to fall asleep. So he says. I swear to God, Felix and his schedules. It can be maddening.

I bet if he sees the truck, he’ll take a picture of it and nothing else. The flat tire and missed starter relay didn’t faze him at all. He’s not even close to his breaking point. If he has one.

“Felix,” Krista says. “We can just put the schedule in our phones. You don’t have to write on a . . . napkin.” Her nose turns up as she tries to stop him.

“Let me just finish,” he says.

More scribbling. Sometimes the best thing to do is ignore Felix, which is exactly what I do until we leave.

Next stop: Devil’s Rope.





Yes, we’re still in Texas. Grandpa was right about it swallowing you up, because we are staying in this state for not one but two stops.

Devil’s Rope is what the Native Americans called barbed wire, and yes, there’s an entire museum devoted to it. That didn’t seem very exciting when I was twelve, but it turned out to be amazing. Barbed wire changed everything.

We learned about how it was used in the nineteenth century, when people could just settle on a piece of land and call it their own. The barbed wire was how people marked their territory, and it also kept the cattle in, otherwise they would just roam around. That’s why cowboys hated it, along with the Native Americans. So many animals died when they walked into it, hence the name Devil’s Rope.

I remember walking out of that museum in awe of how important barbed wire was to our history. Even more important than Bonnie and Clyde.

But before I could voice this discovery, Grandpa ruined it.

“There’s another reason why they call it Devil’s Rope.” He turned to us, one eyebrow raised. “The harder you try to get out of it, the worse it gets.”

Nikki snorted. “Kind of like this road trip.”

Grandpa raised his hand. I thought he was going to hit her, but she ran off before anything could happen. That’s when she saw the couple from the Cadillac Ranch.



* * *



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Today we tell Krista about the museum before we get there. She’s already upset, and no one wants her to completely lose it. Whatever that would look like.

“Devil’s Rope?” Krista says. “Jesus, what a name.”

“It’s not what you think,” Eddie says.

She rolls her eyes.

I get a text from Felix. He is sitting right next to me.


Seriously, what was the deal with your grandfather?


My grandma died not long before the trip. He wasn’t thinking real clear.



Felix nods as he reads it.


That explains a lot.



It does and it doesn’t. Since he doesn’t know anything about Nikki, I can’t tell him that she was Grandma’s favorite. I can’t tell him how she was the one who took care of Grandma while she was sick and dying and Grandpa couldn’t handle it. I can’t tell him how much Nikki hated him for what he did to her.

So I don’t text him back.

The museum is the same as I remember, only it’s bigger and has more displays. Just as we had been fascinated by it, so are Krista and Felix. Especially Felix. He insists on reading about every display, which keeps us here for quite a while.

“I take it back,” Felix says as we leave. “That’s a pretty awesome place.”

“Not bad,” Krista says. “Not what I thought.”

Eddie puts his arm around her as we walk out the door. Portia waited outside, again, and she shakes her head at us. No truck.

Eddie heads back to the interstate, the same one we’ve stayed near. And yes, he’s still the one driving. The only one ever, no matter what anyone else says. Because that’s who Eddie is.

“North?” Krista says. “Again?”

“Yep,” Eddie says.

We all sit in the same place every day. Sometimes it feels like the same road, the same scenery, like we’re going around in circles. Our clothes change, though. No one wears makeup anymore except Krista, and she’s down to only lip gloss. Portia’s black nail polish is chipping and she hasn’t fixed it.