“My pa’s still alive,” I surprised myself by saying.
Nathaniel glanced at me. “I know.”
“They don’t think… they don’t think he’ll last much longer.” Why was I telling him this? I’d never even spoken to Steph about it.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I let out a breath, looking at my feet to avoid tripping on rocks and old roots. “I go see him, in the hospital. As often as I can. I tell him what I’m doing, just like it was normal and we were waiting for dinner.”
“Can he hear you?” Nathaniel’s voice was gentle.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He never… reacts. But I still talk to him. Tell him to get better.” I shook my head. “It’s stupid, I guess.”
“He’s your pa,” Nate said. “It’s not stupid.” Then he stopped and squinted into the distance. Wordlessly he pointed, and far away, way down the boundary road, I saw it.
My truck.
45
WHEN I’D MENTIONED TONIGHT’S LITTLE excursion, I hadn’t expected Nathaniel to want to tag along. But he’d pointed out, to my annoyance, that he had much more experience exploring the Boundary.
Now, as we skirted the trees and made our way through the brush parallel to the boundary road, I was thankful I wasn’t out here alone.
When we got close to the truck, Nathaniel motioned for me to crouch down next to him.
“What are we waiting for?” I whispered.
“To see if it’s a trap,” he murmured matter-of-factly.
Again, a thought that hadn’t occurred to me. It was like I’d been living half asleep, and was now waking up to see how things really were.
“Come on,” he said at last, and we scurried over to my beloved truck. Which was totaled. As I took in all the damage, I had to keep swallowing so I wouldn’t cry. The passenger side was crunched in, and three of the four tires were shredded. The driver’s side door hung open, and the interior was already covered with a thick coating of red dust.
I gestured to the windshield. It was broken, and the point of impact was where the driver’s head would have been. Gingerly I brushed sand off the seat and eased myself in. The keys were in the ignition.
This was where Becca had sat, just a few days ago. I pictured her in my mind, speeding down this road, hair flying, whooping as she broke curfew, took my truck without permission, and pretended, just for a few minutes, that Ma and Pa were both sleeping safely back at home.
My throat closed up and my eyes got hot. Slowly I traced the steering wheel with my fingers, knowing I would give anything to meet Becca’s hand on the other side. Then I was crying silently, salty tears sliding down my face, my throat aching, my breaths coming in painful jerks.
Nathaniel reached in and took my arm, pulling me out gently. I stood against my ruined truck and sobbed as quietly as I could. My former enemy folded me into his arms and patted my back, one hand smoothing down my hair, not saying anything.
I’d been strong for so long. For years. Out here in the cool night air in the middle of forbidden territory, I let it go. Nathaniel’s shirt was damp by the time I hiccupped to a halt. Without speaking we turned to head back through the brush, and from there we made our way across the barren land, down into the gully, through the woods, and then through the barbed wire fence.
Kneeling, Nathaniel quickly wired the pieces of fence back together. “So it won’t be noticed in a quick inspection,” he said.
I got my moped and wheeled it onto the ring road.
“I’m so sorry about Becca,” he said.
I pushed the ignition on my moped, but kept its headlight off.
“Now what?” Nathaniel asked, one hand on my handlebar.
“I really don’t know,” I said politely, and headed for the empty house that would never feel like home again.
46
AT SCHOOL, STEPH, MY BEST friend, was waiting at my locker.