Brothersong (Green Creek 4)

Sunday.

I looked down at Gavin’s hand in mine. His fingers were thin and knobby. There were a few wiry hairs between his knuckles. His palm was soft, and I traced the lines and blue veins.

I said, “We were lost. The three of us. Grieving. Our father was dead. Our pack was broken. We were chasing a monster. But you came with us. You followed us. You watched over us. Why?”

Gordo looked out the window at the rolling farmlands. “Because you’re my family.”

“Even then?”

“Even then.”

I laid my head on his shoulder. He grumbled under his breath but didn’t try to move me.

THAT NIGHT I RAN with my brothers for the first time in a year.

Kelly shifted, Joe shifted, and I felt fragile and thin, like glass.

Gordo said, “Go. Run. I’ll stay with the trucks.”

I glanced at Gavin. He jerked his head toward Kelly and Joe, both of them standing at the edge of a forest. Watching. Waiting. He said, “Fine. It’s fine. I’ll stay with Gordo.”

“You’re just going to sit there and scowl at each other.”

“We are not,” Gordo snapped.

Both of them were scowling.

I turned away from them. I lifted my shirt over my head and dropped my jeans. The air was cool, but not like it’d been at the cabin. Leaves crunched underneath my feet. I breathed in and out, in and out, and I

I

am

wolf

i am wolf

brothers i hear my brothers

sing

sing for them sing so they can hear me sing so

they know i’m here i’m here i’m here

GORDO AND KELLY swapped trucks in the last miles.

Gavin sat rigid and straight next to me. He’d been this way ever since we’d passed the sign announcing we’d crossed into Oregon. I took his hand again, the first time I’d done so while he was awake. He gripped it tightly.

Kelly said, “Ghosts.” It was sudden and out of nowhere. I was still getting used to hearing his voice again. Hearing his heart.

I looked at him. “What?”

“You saw ghosts.”

There was a wolfsong in my head, and it was only growing louder. They could feel us. They knew we were coming home. They were waiting for us, and though it was faint and distant, it would only get louder.

I said, “I don’t…. I saw you.”