Page 32 of We Redeemed the Rain

I lifted it to my nose and inhaled. It smelled like worn paper, dirt, and hay.

The darkness couldn’t hide that this weary notebook was his friend.

I flipped to the next empty page near the end, wrote my mailing address as legibly as the night would allow, and left a tiny note:“I named you Scribbs. Short for your scribbles. Write me. Strings.”

Then I fluffed the hay, careful to leave his treasure exactly how I found it.

EIGHT

Strings,

Finding your address made me smile. The truth is, I thought of you that night after we talked, and wished the circumstances were different. Because what you said was completely true. I do need a friend.

Like I said in the hayloft, I like writing. Putting my thoughts on paper feels good. The same way taking your backpack off after school feels good. Like you’re laying something real heavy down. I always feel like I can breathe a bit better after I watch ink roll over a page. Maybe that's weird, but something tells me you understand because you probably feel the same way about your guitar…what did you call it again?

I guess you saw my notebook. It's falling apart. When I get chances to sit in quiet, I write down my thoughts. I started it a few years back, and now I can't stop. I carry it around because I want to be ready if inspiration strikes. Do you write any original songs?

I write letters to my cousin Randi. Mainly just to keep her updated about everything going on at the ranch. She spends her summers here and hateswhen she has to go home for school. She says I'm long winded. So sorry in advance if I get lost in these pages…

My life is pretty predictable. I go to school, cram my homework on the bus, work at the ranch until dinner, also after dinner, and then a lot of times I have to do more homework before bed or early before school the next morning. My grades aren’t always very good. I think it’s just the nature of ranch life.

Most people might hate being so busy, but I enjoy working. I go stir-crazy without something to do. And I've come to love the horses. But I think I told you that.

I have a little brother. His name is Cooper. He just turned eleven so maybe you guys are around the same age. When’s your birthday? Mine is November 22nd. I saw your family around the ranch a few times. How many siblings do you have? There seemed to be quite a few of you.

You’ll have to let me know what you want me to talk about.

Sincerely,

Scribbs (I like the name by the way)

P.S. Sorry my handwriting is so bad. I’m a leftie.

NINE

Bea

My eyes burned from the day of travel as I squinted through the windshield. It had taken over an hour for the car rental employees to hand me a set of keys. Then there was a wreck on I-10, right outside of San Antonio. At this rate, I would probably show up at the ranch around 11 p.m.

To make things worse, it was raining. According to my weather app, it wouldn’t let up until after midnight. Trying to find a ranch entrance on a Texas backroad in the rainy dark was the most infuriating thing I’d ever attempted.

My anxiety was officially off the charts. I’d had an entire evening of aloneness to stew over this rash decision.

Everything I knew about Meadowbrook Ranch was funneled directly through my pleasant childhood memories. Those could be deceiving. For example, the movies I loved as a kid. When I watched them as an adult I wondered…was I on drugs? At nine?

I was worried Meadowbrook was going to be like that.

An automated confirmation email with my booking details, the name Deborah, and phone number to call was delivered to my inboxright after I booked my cabin. Obviously, I called the number when I landed in San Antonio to confirm my stay.

I had held my breath as the phone rang. Would Scribbs pick up? As soon as a raspy male voice answered, I knew it wasn’t him. He was a very friendly man named Jesse.

What was barely brewing inside me as I sat in the airport, boiled at top temperatures now.

Hope.

Iwantedto see my old friend. Learning he wasn’t at Meadowbrook would be a cup of ice water on this little getaway.

Can I even get rest and inspiration if he isn’t here?

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