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Authors: Brandon Wallace

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BOOK: The Journey Home
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“Dad,” Taylor asked, “what are we going to do? Can we leave tomorrow to go and get Mom?”

Abe said nothing, but Jake saw that his eyes were red and weary. He smacked the dirt off his hands. He avoided looking either of the boys in the eye.

“Smells good in here,” he said quietly. “There's nothing quite like fresh meat you've seen to yourself. Jake, set the table, please.”

Jake did as he was told, but the tension set him on edge. It reminded him of being back in Pittsburgh—the meals eaten in silence, the fearful glances at Bull, the dread of an argument waiting to erupt.

“Dad?” Taylor insisted. “When are we leaving to get Mom?”

“You don't understand, boys,” Abe said, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other. Eventually he looked up and finally met their eyes. “We're not.”

Jake and Taylor sat deathly still. Finally Taylor asked, “You mean we're not going tomorrow? But we'll go soon, right?”

“I mean we're not going at all,” Abe said, in a sad voice just above a whisper.

Without another word Abe went outside, leaving Jake and Taylor to stare at each other, stunned. Then, at the same time, they scooted their chairs back and raced after him. They found Abe next to the outdoor fire pit, staring at the dying embers.

“Dad,” Jake asked, “what are you talking about? We can't leave Mom in Pittsburgh. Didn't you hear us? She's in danger!”

“She needs our help, Dad,” Taylor pleaded.

“I know,” Abe said, putting his arm around Taylor. “And we're
going
to help her. We're
going
to get her out of danger. But rushing off to do it ourselves isn't the way. I've been thinking; we need to stay calm and work something out.”

“ ‘Work something out'?” Jake mocked. He couldn't
believe he was talking to his dad this way, but he was too angry to care. He thought Abe would be happy. Jake thought that Abe would want to get back to Mom straightaway.

Abe bridled. “Jake, would you please listen to me? We can't go get your mom now, even if she wanted us to. A snowstorm's coming—I can feel it in the air, and from the way the animals are acting. We'll get caught in it if we try to go anywhere now.”

“What are you talking about?” Jake shouted, picking up a stick and flinging it off into the darkness. “You have a sixth sense now? It's not even snowing! Admit it. You're scared. Scared to face Mom after you ran off and abandoned us!”

There was silence for a long time.

Abe jabbed the fire with a stick, sending up a flurry of sparks. He took a deep breath. “Look, boys, I love having you both out here with me. Leaving you all those years ago was selfish. I realize that now. But living in the wild with my family was always the big dream. When I first married your mom, it was
our
big dream.”

“So make it happen!” Taylor said. “We just need to go get her!”

“What about what your mom wants. Have you thought about that?” Abe paused and ran his hands through his long hair. “Not long after Taylor was born, something happened that changed your mom's big dream. . . .”

“What, Dad?” Jake demanded.

“Taylor got sick, and I went out to find some herbs to treat him with. Your mom wanted to take him to the doctor, but I knew it wasn't that serious. I wanted to do things
my
way,
nature's
way. And while I was out in the wasteland, I . . .” Abe coughed, embarrassed. “I disturbed a copperhead and got bit.”

So that was where their dad's strange scar had come from. “But you didn't die,” Jake said.

“No, but I nearly did. Your mom called 911 when I didn't come home. I woke up in the hospital. The moment I saw the look on her face, I knew.”

“Knew what?” said Taylor, his voice thick.

“That for her the big dream was over.” Abe threw his stick into the fire. “Your mom loves you boys so much. No way was she going to take you away from hospitals, away from civilization. Even though she loves nature every bit as much as me, she loves you two even more.”

Jake felt a lump in his throat and tears stinging in his eyes. But he was still furious. Abe's stubborn refusal to compromise had torn their family apart once before, but Abe was still refusing to budge.

Abe looked at the boys. “What did she say when you said you were coming to get her?”

“She said not to come,” Jake answered reluctantly. “To stay here with you. But—”

“Exactly,” Abe interrupted. “I don't know who these guys harassing her are, but if they're anything like Bull
was, they're dangerous.
Very
dangerous. Your mom is smart. If she wants you to stay away, it must be for a very good reason, because I'm sure she's desperate to see you. But more than anything else, she wants to keep you safe.”

“We're smart too,” Jake insisted. “We can go get her and bring her back here without anyone knowing. Then we'll ALL be safe.”

Abe shook his head. “Don't be naïve, Jake. You know I like to do things for myself, but sometimes the only smart thing to do is ask for help. We need to contact the authorities. They'll arrest the guys threatening your mom, and keep her safe. Then she can decide what she wants to do. Either come out here and live with us, or take you boys back to Pennsylvania. I've tried the phone again, and the signal is still down, but it should be back up soon. And if it isn't, after the snowstorm that's heading our way, I'll trek into the village and make some calls there.”

“But—” Jake's head was spinning with all sorts of reasons why that plan wouldn't work. Even if the stupid phone did work again tomorrow, if the police got involved, Jake and Taylor would have to tell them about Bull, and the money that they'd taken. Anyway, if it were that simple, Mom would have gone to the police by now.

“That's my final word on the subject, Jake,” Abe said.

Jake fumed inwardly. Once again his dad thought he knew best. What did he care, anyway? He'd left their
mom years ago, so what did it matter to him if she was dead or alive?

Taylor stood, rubbed his stomach, and put on a fake smile that it hurt Jake to see. “Who's hungry? Let's go eat Thanksgiving dinner!”

“Someone's talking sense at last,” said Abe with a weak laugh.

“Cody can have mine,” Jake said quickly.

“Look, buddy, would you just—”

“I'm not hungry.”

Abe stood, his eyes full of sadness. “Suit yourself, Jake. But I'm going to eat your deer and be thankful that your mother is alive, and that I've been reunited with my two boys. I lost you two once before, and I won't risk losing you again.”

That night Jake dozed for brief spells but woke frequently to listen to Taylor's deep breathing on the bed that they shared. He could also hear Abe's snores from across the room. His dad slept under a quilt their mom had made, a bright patchwork creation with no two pieces the same.

As Jake lay awake, the argument he'd had with his dad played back over and over in his head. He didn't know how his dad and Taylor could be sound asleep, knowing that on the other side of the country some thugs were plotting to kill their mother. He couldn't stand how helpless it made him feel, not being able to do anything.

His dad was so sure he was right. But he'd more or less admitted it was a mistake to have chosen his dream over his family. So, what if he was wrong this time too? Jake knew he couldn't take that chance—not with his mom's life on the line. No. He wasn't going to wait around for Abe to do something.

Lying there, Jake made a plan.

Just before dawn he heard Abe get up and stoke the fire in the woodstove. Soon he smelled coffee. Jake pretended to be asleep as he heard the sounds of Abe getting dressed. Finally he heard his dad leave the cabin to check on his traplines. It hadn't snowed overnight—so Abe had been wrong about that, too.

After dressing quickly, Jake shook Taylor. Cody had been snuggled under the blankets and popped his head out between the two boys.

Taylor moaned. “Leave me alone.”

“Taylor, wake up,” Jake insisted.

His brother rolled toward him. Taylor's sandy hair stuck out in all directions. “What . . . what is it? Is it morning?”

“Not yet, but get up.”

“Why?”

“Because we're getting out of here.”

Taylor's eyes sprang fully open. “What are you talking about?”

Jake climbed out of bed and stood up. “We're going to get Mom.”

“Dad changed his mind?” Taylor asked, sitting up.

“No. He just left to check the traps. We need to be gone before he gets back.”

“We're leaving Dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Forever?”

“I don't know,” Jake said. It was the truth. “You heard Mom's voice, Taylor. She needs us, and if Dad won't go get her right away, then we need to.”

“But how?”

“Taylor, we'll figure it out. We did it once, and we can do it again. Besides, we know what we're doing this time, don't we?”

Taylor hesitated. “I guess . . .”

“So, c'mon. We've got to hurry.”

Reluctantly Taylor got out of bed, followed by Cody. Working quickly, the boys dug out the backpacks their friend Skeet had given them before they'd found their dad. Unlike when they'd left Pittsburgh, the boys knew exactly what they needed to survive. Jake ticked off the items in his head one by one as he stuffed them into his pack.

Two water bottles. Sleeping bag. Map. Compass. Pocketknife. Portable shovel. First aid kit. Flashlight. Rain poncho. Ground cloth. Extra socks and underwear. Two extra shirts. Rope. Cord. Matches. Ziplock bags. Sierra cup. Knife, fork, and spoon. Two-quart pot. Ax . . .

By the time he'd finished, Taylor was nearly done too, but he seemed to be stalling.

“You have your poncho and warm clothes?” Jake asked.

“Sure,” he replied. “Listen, Jake, Dad's gonna be mad. I don't know if this is the right—”

“I don't care if he's mad or not,” Jake interrupted. “The only thing that matters right now is Mom.”

From its secret hiding place behind their bed, Jake pulled out the bag full of cash they'd taken from Bull. Both boys stared at it for a moment. Then Jake tossed it to Taylor.

The last thing Jake picked up was the notebook he'd bought on their trip to town. It was already half-full of the things they'd seen and done since coming to Wyoming. As he stuffed the journal into his pack, Taylor asked him, “Don't you think we should at least leave a note?”

Jake hesitated.

He didn't leave a note when he left us seven years ago.

But then he tore off a piece of paper from the notebook and gave it to Taylor. “Here, you write it.”

Taylor scribbled something on the piece of paper and impaled it on a nail overhanging the cabin's sink.

The two boys hoisted their packs and took one last look around them.

“You ready?” Jake asked.

“Yeah . . . I guess so.”

“Coming, Cody?” Jake asked.

The terrier wagged his tail, willing to follow the boys wherever they led him.

With stars still shining overhead, they stepped out of the cabin and into the wild. . . .

7
Morning found the two brothers and Cody sitting on a large lichen-covered rock next to a stream winding through a valley of pines and firs. Ice rimmed the edge of the stream, forming a thin sheet over the shallow water. The boys had pushed hard as they'd climbed the mountain passes that separated their dad's world from their goal—the highway. They'd decided against heading into town and trying to find a ride, in case they ran into anyone who knew Abe. Eventually, their muscles had screamed for mercy, forcing them to stop for a brief rest.

“Do you think Dad will follow us?” Taylor asked, tearing off a piece of venison jerky with his teeth.

“Why would he?” said Jake, chewing some of the tough
meat. “He's where he wants to be, isn't he? He isn't about to admit he's wrong.”

“But he loves us . . . loves having us around. He said that last night. He's gotta be worried about us, for sure.”

“Yeah? Well, if he cares so much, why did we have to find
him
, huh? If this place is so great, why didn't he come and get
us
?”

“Quit being a jerk,” Taylor said, looking down. “He sent us loads of letters—it's not his fault we never got them.”

Jake fed Cody another piece of jerky and looked down at the map spread between them.

“Whatever,” he said. “Even if he does follow us, we'll get to the highway before him. We had at least an hour's head start, maybe more, and we're almost as fast as he is. You might even be faster.”

Usually Taylor would have smiled at that. He didn't now.

Jake gazed down at the map. “Once we get to the road, we should be able to catch a ride. With any luck we can get to Riverton or, better yet, Casper, where we can buy bus tickets. Who knows? With luck we might make it back to Pittsburgh in two days.”

BOOK: The Journey Home
12.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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