The Journey Home (9 page)

A key turned in the door. It swung inward.

There was a pause. Then a worried-sounding voice called: “Kim? Is someone here with you?”

Jake sat, bracing himself for Kim's answer, waiting for the worst. . . .

10
The woman standing in the doorway had Kim's round face and deep-set eyes. She wore a richly colored wool overcoat that hung almost to her knees, with designs of moose and other animals woven into it.

“This is Jake, and this is Taylor,” Kim said. “They're in the school wilderness club. We were going to go fishing together, but we, um, played in the snow instead. We had to dig Taylor out of a snowdrift.”

Jake exhaled loudly. He suddenly realized he'd been holding his breath.

Kim's mom sighed, shut the door, and hung up her coat. “Kimama, why don't you ever
tell
me when you've invited your friends over? We'll have to have the salmon tonight, and you know I was saving it.”

“Mom, don't—”

“Your friends are always welcome, but I need to know in advance. Last time, I came home to your rock band rehearsing in my own living room! Would it kill you to ask permission once in a while?”

Kim rolled her eyes. “I did tell you! I told you last week, remember?”

“Huh?”

“You were on the phone. You probably didn't hear.”

There was something a little disturbing about how easily Kim was lying to her mom, Jake thought. She'd clearly had a lot of practice.

“We don't want to be any trouble,” he said, feeling guilty.

“It's no trouble,” the woman said, looking right through him. “Jake, you said? Kim's never mentioned you before.”

“Um, we only moved here recently,” Jake said helplessly.

“Mom, give them a break,” Kim said, sounding weary. “Is it okay if Jake and Taylor sleep over?”

For the first time the woman smiled at Jake. “I'm Haiwee. Of course you're welcome to stay the night. As long as your parents are okay with it.”

“They already called their mom and asked for permission,” Kim said quickly.

“Great. Best not to go out in this weather,” said Haiwee, “especially after getting stuck in the snow. Tomorrow, once
the plow's opened the roads back up, I'll drive you straight down to Riverton.”

“Thanks!” Taylor beamed. “So . . . can we still go fishing tomorrow?”

Jake just laughed and rolled his eyes at Kim.

The boys awoke the next morning to a fog of heavenly smells—frying bacon, eggs, toasting bread.

And fried potatoes?
Jake asked himself, still lying on the floor in his sleeping bag. He opened his eyes and sat up.

Haiwee glanced over from a small propane range next to the sink. “You're awake,” she said cheerfully. “Did you get some rest?”

“Yeah,” Jake muttered, rubbing his eyes. Taylor also stirred next to him, but Cody sat over by the range, keeping a careful eye on Haiwee's cooking.

Kim burst through the front door carrying half a dozen pieces of firewood. “Here you go, Mom. I split the logs. Is breakfast ready?”

She began to enter the room, but Haiwee snapped, “Those boots are caked with snow! Go clean them off!”

Kim rolled her eyes. “It must have snowed another six inches last night,” she said as she stomped her boots free of snow.

Haiwee tutted. “If that's true, that plow might not get the road open today after all.”

“That's okay,” Kim said, leaning on the table. “Jake,
Taylor, and Cody can just stay an extra night, right?”

“Hmm,” Haiwee answered. “Maybe. But first things first. Who's hungry?”

Taylor sat up suddenly, like an electric jolt had passed through him. “I am!”

Everyone laughed.

“Yes, well, the cold mountain air can give you an appetite,” Haiwee told him.

Jake wasn't sure if it was the avalanche, or months of eating lean meat and roots, but he and Taylor ate so much, they thought they might burst.

“You look like you haven't eaten in about a year,” Kim said, and laughed.

“We've eaten,” Taylor said. “Just nothing as good as this.”

Haiwee said, “You can thank me by cleaning up.”

Jake kept his eyes trained on Haiwee's face. She clearly had something on her mind, but for now she was keeping it to herself.

“Seeing as how you're stuck here with us, why don't we go fishing like we were going to yesterday?” Kim asked. “It'll get us out of this house, at least.”

Jake didn't want to hang around—they were meant to be getting back to their mom as quickly as possible—but Kim gave him a look that told him he didn't have any choice.

Taylor stuffed one final forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Awesome.”

“Just try not to start any avalanches, okay?” Kim laughed.

Jake and Taylor looked at each other sheepishly.

“Oh, no,” Haiwee said. “You two can go, but Taylor can stay right here. I'm not about to let him go out into the cold again. He's looking pale, and I want to keep an eye on him.”

“Aw, I feel great, though. Especially after that breakfast!”

“I'm sorry, young man. The answer is no.”

Taylor sighed. “Okay. Jake probably wants some time alone with Kim anyhow.”

Jake kicked him under the table. Taylor scowled but knew enough to keep his mouth shut.

Outside the house, Jake waited, hopping from one foot to the other. From behind him he heard the roar of an engine. He spun around to see Kim, driving up on a large snowmobile, a big grin on her face. She stopped next to him.

“Hey there, runaway. Want a lift?”

Jake climbed on board behind her. “Not so loud! What if your mom hears?”

“She won't. Not over this.” Kim revved the engine a couple of times. “Sweet ride, huh?”

“Is it yours?”

“Course it is. In case you hadn't noticed, we do live in Wyoming. How else do you think we get anywhere in the winter?”

Kim hit the throttle. Jake's face froze with the wind whipping over him, but he didn't mind. It felt like freedom.

“Dad wouldn't let us have one of these,” he called to Kim over the noise of the engine.

She laughed. “So how do you get around? On a horse?”

“We walk.”

“Seriously? Man, even the Amish have horses. Your dad must be a real hard-ass.”

He is,
Jake thought. “It's kind of primitive, I guess,” he admitted. “We don't even have electricity in our place, not like you guys.”

“You have toilet paper, though, right? Actually, no, don't tell me. I'd rather not know.”

Jake's cheeks burned with embarrassment. He felt a stab of jealousy too. Kim and Haiwee were living out in the wild, but they weren't isolated like Abe. Kim even got to go to school and have friends. She was in a band. Meanwhile, Jake and Taylor got to boil up balsamroot.

As they rode, Jake could feel new anger boiling up inside at how rigid and uncompromising their dad had been.

Abe had talked about how glad he'd been that the boys had come to find him. But the truth was, he hadn't adapted his Spartan lifestyle in any way to accommodate Jake's and Taylor's needs. As far as Jake's dad was concerned, it was his way or the highway.
How selfish can you get
, thought Jake.

Kim drove through a rugged canyon until they reached a pond about the size of a football field.

“There's fish in here?” Jake asked, getting off the snowmobile.

“A ton of 'em,” said Kim. “The tribe dammed up the little spring-fed creek here to provide water for cattle, sheep, and wildlife, but they also stock it with rainbow trout. Lots of the reservation kids fish and swim out here. We're lucky it didn't totally freeze over with this storm.”

Jake saw that ice skirted the edge of the pond but only stretched out about fifteen feet. After that, it was cold, clear water.

Perfect,
he thought.

Kim laid their poles on top of the snowmobile and opened her tackle box. “You know how to rig a fishing pole?”

“Sure.”

“Sorry if I was out of line back there, with the joking and all. I guess your dad must be pretty mean, for you to be running away.”

Jake shook his head. “He's not mean. It's just . . . complicated.”

Kim laid a hand on his arm and made him flinch. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,” she said.

“He's just so stubborn,” Jake sighed. “You can't change his mind, you know? It's like he's in a cult or something. A cult with only one member.”

While they rigged up the fishing poles, he told Kim all about the last five months. He talked her through the whole
journey to Wyoming to find their dad, only leaving out the part where Bull was killed.

“You should have heard how my mom sounded on the phone,” he said. “She was terrified. We couldn't stay with Dad, not after that.”

Kim nodded slowly. “So you're heading to Pennsylvania on foot. Sticking to the back roads . . . staying out of sight. Reminds me of something.”

“Outlaws?”

“No. I was thinking more of hobbits? You and Taylor are like Frodo and Sam.”

Jake laughed despite himself. “You're crazy, you know that?”

“I'm just jealous,” Kim said. “I wish I could get out of here too.”

“What?”

“Run away, like you guys.”

“You don't like it here?” Jake asked, waving his hand at the surrounding mountains. “You
are
crazy. This place is great. You get to be in the wild but close to town, too.”

“It's not the place. It's my mom,” Kim said. “She's so nosy. She doesn't give me any privacy whatsoever. She always wants to know what I'm doing and who I'm hanging out with. You were there—you saw what she's like!”

“She seemed nice,” Jake said carefully.

“You should meet my dad. He's cool. He lives down in Denver, doing art for computer games.”

“How come he doesn't live with you?”

“Because he couldn't stand living out here in the middle of nowhere, obviously. One day I'm just going to pack up and go live in the city with him.”

“That's funny,” said Jake. “We wanted to come live in the wild with our dad, and you want to go live in the city with yours.”

“Yeah,” Kim said. “Ironic, isn't it?”

Jake set about baiting hooks with salmon eggs, while Kim picked out a little metallic gold fishing lure. They walked down to the edge of the pond and spread out.

“The trout ought to be pretty hungry,” said Kim. “They're trying to fatten up for the winter.”

Kim and Jake cast their lines beyond the “ice shelf” rimming the pond, and sure enough, Kim quickly got a nibble. When the end of her pole dipped down a second time, she jerked back on it to set the hook.

“Got him!” she shouted as the line whizzed out from her reel. She steadily brought in the fish, a fourteen-inch rainbow.

“Nice trout!” Jake called, as she pulled it across the shelf of ice. And in the next second, he noticed he had a bite too.

Moments later he had his own fish fight on his hands.

“Loosen the drag!” Kim called across to him. “You've got it set too tight, and he might get away.”

Jake quickly loosened the dial that controlled how easily the line could get pulled out from the reel. “I think I lost him!”

He began reeling the line all the way in, but his pole tip dipped again.

“Hey, I think—Oh no! It's caught on something.”

Kim was busy with her catch, and Jake was determined not to ask for help. He stepped out onto the ice to test if it would hold his weight. It did, so he took another step forward, lifting his pole in the air to try to free the hook.

It still didn't budge, so Jake took another step. The ice cracked but didn't break. Jake continued waving his pole this way and that, trying to dislodge the lure from whatever it was caught on.

“Crap,” he said, and without thinking, took one final step toward the edge of the ice.