Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Bonus Chapter: Chapter 25.5

After some pressure from readers to speed the story along, I realized I'd gotten a little bogged down in the details of building the greenhouse and the coming of salmon season, so I decided to omit this chapter in late May. For context, this comes just after the bonding-over-chocolate-popcorn chapter and just before the camping trip for Midsummer's Eve.

May 23

Ryan

I wake up to bright sunlight. I've never been a massive fan of early morning sunlight, but it's so much better than the nearly uninterrupted darkness during winter that I can't bring myself to complain too much.

I wake Ana soon after getting up. She's definitely not a morning person. She doesn't say a word as we move the seedling plants from the warm indoors to the crisp air out on the porch. I have to hold in a laugh when she glares at the sun when we resume work in the garden. As with assembling the frame, I require her assistance to mount the clear plastic sheeting on the greenhouse. I'd hoped that I would be able to complete this entire project solo. It bothers me to need her help, especially for her to see that I need her help. I don't like feeling incapable.

She agrees to hold the sheeting in place if I'll help her spread the topsoil in the garden. That's a task I should be able to manage. As we finish the exterior of the greenhouse, she looks less and less perturbed at life in general and seems to be enjoying herself. When we've at last finished the structure, she beams at it with pride. 

"Can we move the plants in now?" she asks, looking at me with bright eyes.

I was going to put some shelving in, but I decide that can wait. "Sure," I tell her. She jogs lightly back to the porch, her quick pace inspiring Casper to chase after her. 

She bounds up the porch in three strides, leaving Casper to cautiously climb the stairs on his own. He's big enough to handle stairs now, but he's still a little hesitant to use them. Ana gathers up a bunch of tiny plants in her arms and trips back down the steps. Casper drops his chest nearly to the ground, hind end up and front legs splayed as if he expects Ana to chase him. 

"What?" I hear her ask the dog playfully. "Do you want to carry a plant too?" 

She takes a small jump toward him and he tears off across the yard, stopping when he realizes he isn't being pursued. He returns to trot at Ana's side as she carries armloads of seedlings into the greenhouse. She scolds him when he tries to enter the greenhouse himself, at risk of squashing the young plants littering the floor. I distract him with a game of fetch. He's improving at the game but still doesn't like giving up the stick.

"Time to move some dirt," Ana says. 

Quickly she realizes that creating gardening beds would be easier with something to act as a border to keep the dirt in. I volunteer up some of the extra wood planks. By lunchtime, the gardening beds are completed and ready for plants. We break for lunch, but only a short one because rain clouds are moving in. I begin to work on the shelving for the greenhouse and Ana decides to work on Casper's training. One of the books I read explained how to teach dogs not to fear gunfire. If Casper's going to accompany us on hunting trips, he's going to need this skill. 

Just as I finish the first set of shelves, the rain begins to fall. Casper retreats to the porch while Ana and I arrange the plants inside the greenhouse. She fills the watering can from the rainwater barrel and carefully waters each seedling. Soon we'll be able to plant most of these in the garden outside, but for now, they'll remain in the greenhouse until the weather is consistently warm.

When Ana's finished with her task, she eyes the sky contemplatively. 

"It's not about to stop raining anytime soon, is it?" she asks.

"Probably not."

She looks displeased for just a moment before her face twists into a grin with a hint of devilishness behind it. 

"No," I say automatically.

"What?" she asks. I almost buy her innocent, surprised pretense. Almost.

"Whatever idea has just popped into your head, I want no part of it."

"Aww, come on. You promised you'd help spread dirt."

"Not in the rain, I didn't."

She sighs. "I suppose I'll have to enact my revenge by different means, then."

We both look up at the greenhouse roof as the rain intensifies. 

"Well, there's no point in delaying the inevitable," Ana says. She flings open the greenhouse door and runs out into the downpour. But instead of making a beeline for the porch as I'd expected, she stops to jump in a puddle. 

I feel my eyebrows raise. Is she six years old?

She turns and beams at me, her hair and clothes quickly becoming drenched. I cross my arms and roll my eyes at her. She throws her arms out wide and lifts her face to the sky, rain landing on her face like a cascade of teardrops. She even opens her mouth to catch the droplets. When she begins to spin in a circle, I shake my head.

When I look back at her, she's got that same malicious smile on her face.

"I am not coming out there."

Her smile doesn't falter as she begins to walk toward me.

"You are not coming in here!" I say louder, closing the greenhouse door. 

She stops advancing, but her smile never wavers and she yells, "Casper!" in a sing-song voice.

The dog doesn't need any additional encouragement to join Ana in the mud. He scrambles down the stairs, nearly completing a front-flip in the process. 

"Really?" I ask.

In only a few seconds, the pristine white dog is a muddy disaster. 

"You have to bathe him," I call from inside the greenhouse.

"You have to help," she says.

"No, I don't. This one's on you."

She gives me another devilish look before turning to the dog and saying, "Do you want a bath, Casper? Who needs a bath? You do!"

The dog is, as always, oblivious to the meaning of her words but basking in the attention. She croons and rubs between his ears and scratches under his chin. The puppy rolls around on the ground so Ana can rub his tummy.

"And where are you going to wait while I fill up the bathtub? Oh, I know! You want to go sit on the couch, Casper?"

"Ana!" I yell.

She smiles at me again, bursting with delight at my suffering.

"Maybe you can convince Ryan to fill up the bathtub for you," she says to the dog, picking him up and carrying him toward the greenhouse. She looks at me and grins.

"Fine," I say. "You win."