Gone (Michael Bennett 6)

“Pardon me, but wasn’t it you who woke us up at the crack of dawn, Brian?” Ricky said. “I distinctly remember someone who looked a heck of a lot like you saying, ‘Get up, you idiot. It’s time to go.’ ”

“It’s OK,” Brian heard Eddie say to Ricky. “Brian’s just having one of his Brian moments. In other words, our big brother is going completely nuts.”

You can say that again, Brian thought as he trudged across the not-so-fruited California plain. What fifteen-year-old wouldn’t go nuts being exiled out here in the desert, like someone from the Bible?

And, just like a nut, he had woken that morning inspired to accomplish an important mission. He was going to walk until he found the river that Mr. Cody had driven them to a few weeks before. Not for any real reason. Because it’s there, Brian thought as he paced over the seemingly endless plain of dry land.

He thought he knew the general direction, but they were three hours into the hike, with no water anywhere. Has to be around here somewhere, he thought, sheepishly squinting up at the sky.

He hadn’t told Mary Catherine or Seamus about his plans. Hadn’t asked permission. Hadn’t even left a note. He knew it was slightly messed up to just get up and leave without saying anything, but that was pretty much the point. Dad was gone now. They were stuck out here, with no end in sight, and he was simply sick of it. The cows, the homeschooling lessons with the little twerps. Hell, he should just keep walking east until he made it back to Manhattan. Back to his friends. Back to his real life.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been told,” sang Eddie after a while, “this stupid walk is getting old! Sound off!”

“One, two,” Ricky sang.

“Wait, wait,” Brian said. “Shut up! Listen!”

They stopped in their tracks. There was a faint rushing sound coming from beyond the broken, distant tree line off to their right. They looked at each other for a beat, then started running. Brian in the lead, Ricky second, and Eddie dead last.

Brian stopped raising dust as he got to the ridge of the sandy riverbank. He just stood there, smiling. He stared at the sun twinkling silver off the fast-rushing water, stared at the green-brown surface of it, curving through the dry landscape like a ribbon of living glass. The slightly alkaline scent of the water was strong in the dry air. He’d never really smelled water before, at least not clean water.

I’ve done it, Brian thought. Set a goal for myself and accomplished it. A pointless one, maybe, but still. It felt pretty awesome.

/> “Hey, you did it! You actually found it, Pocahontas!” Eddie said, giving him a high five.

“Of course I found it,” Brian said nonchalantly as he leaped off the berm and down the sand, toward the rushing water.

CHAPTER 69

THEY WERE SPLASHING AROUND and skipping rocks twenty minutes later, when they saw the kayak come around the bend upriver.

The aging hippie in it smiled as he expertly paddled over to the shore beside them. At first, Brian got a little scared because the guy sort of looked like the Unabomber. But when he stepped out of the Day-Glo-yellow kayak twenty feet away, he was wearing rubber fishing waders that went up to his chest.

Just some harmless old nut fishing, Brian told himself.

The hippie lifted a palm after he beached the kayak.

“How,” he said like an Indian, then threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry. Always wanted to say that,” he said with a twinkling, blue-eyed wink. “Name’s McMurphy. Pleased to meet you, boys. You must be new around here. What brings you intrepid wanderers out this far into the great beyond? I don’t see any fishing poles. Let me guess. Fame, fortune, and adventure?”

“Boredom, actually,” Eddie said.

The man threw back his head again and cackled some more.

“Boredom,” McMurphy said, tapping a finger against his forehead. “That’s a good one, son. Boredom will work fine, too.”

Wow, Brian thought, staring at the guy’s wild eyes, his wild gray hair. This guy was pretty nutty. Too many tabs of acid? he wondered. He reminded him of someone. An old sixties actor. Dennis someone. He seemed harmless enough, at least.

Maybe this is what happens to you if you stay out here too long, Brian thought, glancing at the coot. He almost felt like asking him if he was once in the witness protection program, too.

“Holy cow! There you are!” came a shrill voice as they heard some rustling in the trees up the bank behind them.

They looked up to see Juliana at the top of the sandy berm. She was sitting atop one of Mr. Cody’s horses, Spike, wearing riding boots like she was the Queen of England. Of course, Brian thought. They always let Miss Perfect do everything cool. Juliana could do anything she wanted.

“Everybody is looking for you,” Juliana said, staring at Brian. “What the heck are you doing?”

“Hello there, little lady. McMurphy’s the name,” the hippie said with a courtly little bow. “These boys with you?”

Juliana nodded.