‘He threatened to move us to one of the other sites we use. He actually started packing.’ Bo laughs and puts his hands on his hips like he’s tired. ‘He said I could stay here alone if you meant that much to me.’
I shift uncomfortably. ‘What did you say to him?’
Bo smiles. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘You mean they left you?’
He shakes his head. ‘My mom got between my dad and me.’ His face falls suddenly, remembering the conflict. ‘I’m going eventually. For school. My mom won’t let me stay in the woods forever, but she’s not ready for me to go just yet because she knows she’ll never see me again.’
‘Wait. Never? I mean, you could come visit or . . .’ I break off.
He shakes his head, his eyes far away. ‘No. As soon as I register at one of the schools I’ve been accepted to, the FBI will be watching me. I can’t see my parents again.’
The words hang there, and I swear the whole forest goes silent.
‘And your brothers and sisters?’
‘Well, we’ve had time to plan,’ he says quietly. ‘They’ll each come out to live with me when they’re ready. But it will be years in between. Could be twelve or thirteen years before I see Moth again. And if one of them doesn’t show, I’ll never know if they decided to stay with Mom and Dad, or if they’re . . . if something happened to them.’
I sit down on the ground. ‘That’s horrible,’ I whisper.
Bo crouches down in front of me, his eyes intense. He brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear. ‘I don’t care any more. I mean, I do,’ he amends quickly, ‘but my whole life has been about my family. About my dad. And now I need it to be about something else.’
I put my arms around him. That’s all I can do, really. Too soon, Bo pulls back and stands.
‘Come on,’ he says.
‘Where’re we going?’ I reply, standing up and reaching for my things.
‘I promised to teach you how to survive out here.’ He looks at the air between the sunbeams and shadows, judging the light, or the probability of rain, or the migration of gnats, for all I know. I really have no idea. ‘We’d better get going,’ he says, like the air told him something.
He takes me out into the brush, well beyond any human trail. He’s in control out here, and I think he does it more to take a moment and slow down the physical side of things between us after what I told him, rather than to teach me anything. But I learn plenty anyway. He stops and stoops down, pointing out a small white flower.
‘Queen’s cup,’ he tells me. ‘The leaves are edible.’ He picks a few of the leaves that grow around each flower, never stripping any of the flowers bare. He gives me a handful, and I put one in my mouth and chew. It’s sweet. I smile at Bo, and he smiles back, chewing on a leaf of his own.
We move on, chewing and scanning the ground. He shows me the yellow-flowered wood sorrel and makes a face.
‘Sour,’ he says, gathering them anyway and putting the flowers and the leaves in the pockets of his worn cargo pants. ‘They’re better cooked.’
We go on like this for hours. Barely talking, but looking and listening and finding. I take notes in my journal. I try to draw the flowers and the leaves.
‘Do you know where we are?’ he asks.
I look around. ‘Are we . . .?’ I spin around. I hear running water and go towards it. We’re back to there.
‘You’ll get better at it,’ he tells me when he sees
the devastated look on my face.
‘I had no idea we were heading back this way until I heard the water,’ I say, frustrated.
Bo nods. ‘But you heard the water and went towards it. Why is that good?’ I shrug and roll my eyes. ‘Because water flows downhill,’ he says, answering his question for me. ‘And what’s down?’
‘Town is down,’ I say, finally getting it. ‘If I come across a stream, I follow it down the mountain.’
‘Right,’ Bo says, nodding. He’s standing too far away from me. I step towards him, but he smiles and shakes his head, evading my touch. ‘It’s too late. It will be dark soon.’
He’s aching to touch me. I can see it. I love how transparent Bo is. He really is a rainbow. Every colour, every shade, and still so easy to see through him.