Author: Jack Yerby

Chapter 3: Marbles and Raindrops
Early the next morning, Kalani poked his head into his brother’s bedroom. “Hey, get up. Pop wants us downstairs.”
Tristen mumbled something incoherent and rolled over on his side, away from the door.
“Okay, you asked for it,” Kalani said under his breath as he tiptoed into the room. He grinned as he looked down at what he held in his hand: a large, pewter mug filled with marbles. He guessed there were over a hundred of them. Their mother kept them in the freezer which meant they were ice cold. This was her standard way of getting her sons up for school when they were slow to get out of bed. It worked better than a glass of water because it didn’t get the sheets wet.
Kalani quickly lifted the covers off his brother and poured the marbles along his back and legs into the trough his body created where he pushed down the mattress. Tristen shrieked and rolled away from the icy marbles. But try as he would, he wasn’t able to out-roll them. He shrieked again and leaped out of bed. 
“Okay! Okay! I’m up!” he snapped as he shivered. He could still feel the freezing cold along his back and legs.
“Come on. Pop’s got a chore for us today,” said Kalani, handing the now empty mug to his brother. “And don’t forget to put the marbles back.”
That was part of the punishment for taking too long to get out of bed when called. The late sleeper had to get all the marbles from the bed and put them back in the mug.
Down in the breakfast nook by the kitchen, Kalani finished his stack of pancakes as Tristen came stumbling down the stairs. Kalani shook his head sadly; his brother was definitely not a morning person.
“I saved you some pancakes,” Kalani said as he got up to rinse off his plate and put it in the dishwasher.
“Only because I told him to save you some,” said Tamala Henderson, not looking up from her laptop. She was seated beside her husband at the breakfast table. 
Mason looked up at his youngest son from a small stack of papers in front of him. “I was going to give you two more minutes to get downstairs before releasing the Kraken on your share,” as he nodded toward Tristen’s older brother. Kalani was always hungry, and his parents were constantly amazed at how much he could eat.
Tristen scowled at his brother as he put the mug of marbles back in the freezer.
After Tristen got his pancakes from the kitchen counter and sat down at the table, Mason Henderson put his papers in a large brown envelope and looked at his sons. “I want you two to ride into Aztec and take these papers to the county clerk’s office. They have to be entered in the records today, and I’ve got to drive down to Albuquerque in just a few minutes. Aztec is in the other direction, and I don’t have time to run them to the courthouse before I get on the road.”
“Can we take the pickup?” asked Kalani, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Nice try,” his father answered. “And just who is going to be the adult in the vehicle with you?” 
He handed his empty coffee cup to his eldest son and nodded toward the dishwasher. “You only have your temporary license, so there has to be an adult with you in the front seat when you drive.”
Kalani took his dad’s cup to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. “But the pickup would be faster than our bikes. And safer on the highway, too.”
“Sorry, but no dice,” his father replied. “And since when are you worried about riding your Hondas on the highway? Your 300’s are street legal, and you certainly didn’t mind riding them into Farmington yesterday for lunch.” He grinned at his eldest son. “Don’t worry; you’ll get your regular license as soon as you finish fifty hours of driving time with an adult.”
As Kalani sat back down at the table, his dad handed him the thick envelop. “Take these to the county clerk’s office, have them recorded, and bring me back the receipt.”
“Yes sir,” Kalani answered. “Do you mind if I check with someone there and get a list of all the notaries in the area? Or do Tristen and I need to be back home right away?”
“You still think there’s another will out there?” his mother asked with a chuckle. “You’re like a bulldog. Once you get something in your teeth, you don’t let go.”
After exchanging a glance with his wife, Mason said, “Go ahead and take a look at the county records if you want, but don’t be a pest doing it. Don’t get in the way of the workers in the office. Your mother gets off work at five, and I won’t be back from Albuquerque until late tonight. Just make sure you two are home in time to help her with supper.”
* * *
“Wow! Look at all those names!” exclaimed Tristen, peering over his brother’s shoulder. “You wouldn’t think there would be so many rotaries in the county.”
“Notaries,” his brother corrected.
Kalani was seated at a computer in the county courthouse as his brother stood behind him. On the screen was a list of everyone in San Juan County licensed to be a notary public. After registering the papers for their dad, Kalani had asked if he could get a list of notaries in the area. The lady behind the counter had taken the boys over to a public computer in the room and had shown Kalani how to log on and get the information he had asked for.
“There’s no way we can ask each one if they witnessed Wyatt Granger’s signature on a will,” said Tristen.
“Yeah, but we can check the ones located in Farmington. That’s where he was living with the DeVilles when he died.”
“Are we going to go visit each person one at a time and ask them about Wyatt? That will take forever.”
“Hmm, maybe we can just call them. There’s a phone number by each name.”
Kalani moved the mouse over the drop-down menus on the screen looking for a way to print the information he wanted. He scrolled around for a few seconds, clicked the mouse, and looked around for the printer. He heard it printing behind the counter and walked over to the sound. The clerk who had helped him with the computer picked up the printout, counted the pages, and brought them over to the counter where Kalani was standing.
“Is there a fee for printing that out?” Kalani asked the lady.
“You’re Mason Henderson’s son, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.
“No charge,” she responded. “Your dad’s a nice guy. He always says ma’am to me even though he’s older than I am.” 
“That’s his Texas upbringing. He thumps me on the head if I forget to say ma’am or sir to adults.”
“Good for him,” she replied. “It’s nice to see polite kids.”
* * *
In the parking lot of the county courthouse many minutes later, Tristen said to his older brother. “Let’s go back home on the Old Aztec Highway.”
“Why?” Kalani asked. “It will take longer. It’s a windey road and we’ll have to go a lot slower than on the main highway.”
“True, but there are lots of trees lining it, and it’s narrow enough we’ll be in the shade most of the time. It’s too hot to drive on the highway.”
“I don’t know. We might get caught in that storm heading this way,” Kalani said. He looked over at the horizon and saw big thunderheads building in the distance.
“Naw, I think we’ll make it home before the storm hits,” Tristen answered as he glanced up at the sky. “Those clouds are way off. It’s still clear overhead.”
* * *
As the boys rode down the old road that connected Aztec and Flora Vista, Kalani kept glancing up at the sky. “We’d better pick up the pace if we want to get home before this storm hits.”
But as he said it, he realized that he couldn’t hear his brother’s motorcycle behind him. He snuck a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Tristen off his bike, walking it. Kalani turned around in the narrow road and rode back to him.
“What’s up?” he asked Tristen.
“I ran out of gas,” his brother answered.
“You didn’t bother to check your gas gauge before we left Aztec?!”
“Hey, I’ve ridden on Empty longer than this before!”
Kalani began to weave from one side of the road to the other in order to keep his balance as Tristen walked his bike down the road. 
 “Oh man, this storm is going to catch us for sure, and we’re going to get soaked,” said Kalani as he looked up at the sky.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Tristen. “You’ve got nothing to sweat. Horse turds don’t melt. They even float.” And he laughed. 
Kalani glared at him, then got off his bike to walk alongside his brother. 
A few minutes later Kalani felt the first fat raindrops splash on his helmet. “I told you that we’d get caught in this storm. Now, we’re gonna get drenched.”
“This way,” shouted Tristen as he suddenly turned left down a narrow lane leading away from the road.
He led his brother about a hundred yards to where the lane ended in front of an old house and a dilapidated barn. The barn door was open, and Tristen led his brother inside just as a loud crash of thunder sounded and the rain started pouring down.
“Hope the owner doesn’t mind us riding out this storm in his barn,” Kalani said to Tristen as the two boys lowered the kickstands of their bikes and walked over to the entrance to watch the downpour.
“He doesn’t,” came a voice from the shadows of the barn behind them.