Chapter Eight
“I think we’re getting close,” he announced, trying his best not to sound too excited about it.
“How do you know?” she asked.
“The pointer is moving. If the place was still a long way off then a few miles wouldn’t matter much about the direction we needed to take. But the closer we get, the more it affects it. So it’s got to be pretty close,” he explained.
The effect became more and more noticeable as the day wore on, until Brian was certain they had to be very near indeed. Eventually, just outside the town of Snowball, they found themselves forced to turn onto a gravel road, because the highway was actually taking them farther away at that point.
“You’re sure we won’t get lost?” Rachel asked worriedly.
“We can’t get lost. We’ve got the amulet,” he reminded her.
“Yeah, I know that. But I meant what if we get way back here on one of these dirt roads and can’t find one that goes the right way? We don’t know our way around up here, or at least I don’t,” she clarified.
“Neither do I, but we’ll just have to do the best we can,” he shrugged, pretending the idea didn’t bother him. They drove on like this for another hour or two, working their way ever deeper into the mountains. In places the road was so steep and narrow that Brian was afraid the car would never make it, or even worse, never make it back out. There were rocky creek beds that had to be crossed, and deep washouts, and now and then humps of limestone that nearly blocked the way completely. But they crept ahead, slowly and carefully, always trying to keep following the pointer as best they could.
At last they reached a place where they could go no farther. A huge pine tree had fallen directly across the road, blocking the way completely.
“There’s no way we can drive past that,” Brian said, as soon as he saw it.
“Then I guess we’ll just have to walk from now on. How close do you think we are?” she sighed.
“I don’t know. Hopefully not too far,” he said.
“Well, let’s get with it, then,” she said.
“Wait a minute, first. Is there anything we need to take with us from the car?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Just the keys, maybe,” she said.
“Is there a flashlight anywhere? It’ll be getting dark soon,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, there’s a little one in the glove box,” she said, reaching inside to grab it.
“I don’t guess your sister keeps a gun in here, does she?” he asked without much hope. He didn’t really expect to need one, but it might be better to be safe than sorry.
Rachel laughed.
“Nope, no gun, but there’s supposed to be a tire tool in the trunk, if you think we might need to bash somebody in the head,” she told him, amused.
“No, it’s not that. I was thinking more about wild animals,” he said, getting out of the car to fetch the tire tool. She watched him with a smile on her face.
“You’re crazy, Mad Dog, you know that?” she finally said, obviously amused.
“Maybe so, but if we meet a bear I’d just like to have something to fight with, that’s all,” he said defensively.
“Well. . . okay, point taken,” she agreed.
They gathered up the remains of their lunch and their water bottles, and then Brian looked at the amulet one more time.
“That’s the way,” he said, pointing to a bluish peak far in the distance. It couldn’t have been more than five miles away, but it looked like a walk to eternity.
“Do you think we can make it?” she asked doubtfully, gazing at the peak.
“We have to,” he said simply.
They struggled on through the woods for a long time, following the pointer as best they could. At times they had to detour around deep gorges or sinkholes in the rough limestone, and this often led to long delays before they could get back on track again.
Perhaps an hour after they left the car, the sun slipped down below the mountains in the west, and it quickly began to get dark.
“I don’t think we’ll find it tonight,” Brian said, stopping to take a drink of water.
“Yeah, I guess we need to think about making camp somewhere,” she agreed.
“Oh, joy,” he muttered, thinking how uncomfortable that was likely to be. He wouldn’t have minded if they’d had a tent, or even sleeping bags, but lying on the bare ground was no fun at all.
“It’ll be all right,” Rachel said, and he was ashamed of himself for griping. If she could tough it out, then so could he.
They went on for a little longer, keeping an eye out for likely spots.
“I think this’ll do,” Brian finally said. It was nothing but a dense grove of pine trees, where the needles had fallen down for uncounted years and made a deep drift. It softened the bare ground, at least, and the trees would shield them from any unfriendly eyes that might come along.
There didn’t seem likely to be any eyes at all, unfriendly or otherwise, but it never hurt to be careful.
The leaf litter was more comfortable than Brian had thought it would be, so they sat cross-legged on the ground to eat leftover burgers and drink water.
“This is nice, Brian,” Rachel said at last.
“It is?” he asked, surprised.
“Yeah, it really is. Here we are, maybe getting close to the Fountain, doing something that really matters. It makes me feel ten times more alive inside than I would if I was just sitting at home right now watching TV or doing homework. Don’t you think so?” she asked. He considered it.
“You know, you’re absolutely right. I do feel that way,” he agreed, and she laughed.
“You sound so surprised,” she told him.
“I guess I never thought of it like that before,” he admitted.
There wasn’t much else to do, so they turned in early on their pine-needle beds, hoping they’d reach the Fountain before noon the next morning.
Unfortunately, they didn’t. Most of the next day was spent very much like the previous afternoon, pushing their way through dense woods and avoiding obstacles, until they began to despair of ever making any progress.
“I hope it’s not much farther,” Rachel finally said, early in the afternoon. It was the first time she’d even mildly complained, but Brian couldn’t blame her. He was tired, and dirty, and hungry, and this endless walk through the woods was wearing them both down.
“Surely it won’t be,” he said, as much for his own benefit as for hers.
They sat down on a fallen log beside a little creek to eat the last scraps of food and drink some water, and neither of them had enough.
“I’m worried, Brian. If we don’t find the place soon, we’ll have to turn back just for food,” she said glumly.
“Yeah, we definitely can’t go on like this,” he agreed.
“Any ideas?” she asked.
“No, not really. I’ve still got some money, but that won’t help us out here,” he said.
“Do you think we could catch some fish? We’ve passed a few creeks now and then,” she asked hopefully.
“What would we catch them with?” he pointed out.
“Well. . . I don’t know. Can’t you tickle them out of the water with your hands? I saw them do that on TV once,” she asked.
“Do you know how to tickle fish?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“No,” she admitted.
“Well, neither do I. So scratch that idea, then. I don’t think I can go deer hunting with a tire tool, either,” he said. The words came out a little sharper than he meant for them to, but Rachel ignored him.
“I bet we could gather some mussels and crawdads, if we had to,” she finally said.
“That’d be pretty nasty, Raych,” he pointed out.
“Not if we cooked them. We could make some soup, you know; put some clover in there, maybe some other stuff,” she insisted, and Brian had to laugh.
“Clam and clover soup.
Now I’ve heard everything,” he said.
“We could try it, at least,” she shrugged.
“Even if we wanted to, we still don’t have anything to cook it in,” he reminded her.
“We could use one of the water bottles, if we cut the top off,” she suggested.
“It’s plastic. It’d just melt if we put it over a fire,” he said.
“True, but we could heat up rocks and drop them into the bottle. That’ll heat up the soup,” she pointed out.
“I guess we could try it,” he agreed, doubtfully.
“Okay. You go get the mussels and whatever else you can catch, and I’ll start a fire and gather some greens,” she said.
“Sure, why not?” he shrugged.
He went down the slope to the creek and found a place where there was a gravel bar, and then started digging for mussels. It turned out to be a time-consuming process, and by the time he’d filled both his pockets full his stomach was starting to grumble about the long wait. There were no crawdads to be found, and he finally decided that the mussels would have to do.
He carried them back up the hill to where Rachel had built a fire, and saw that she’d gathered two or three handfuls of clover greens.
They carefully cut off the top of one of the bottles and heated water in it with hot rocks, as Rachel had suggested. The process seemed to work, and in the end they had a steaming bowl of food.
“Well, it smells pretty good,” Brian admitted.
“Yeah, it does. I just hope it tastes good, too,” she agreed.
“I’ll taste it first, just in case it’s nasty,” he volunteered, eyeing the bottle. It might smell good, but it certainly didn’t look very appetizing. In fact it looked more like dirty dishwater than anything else he could think of.
“Go for it,” she told him.
He grimaced and took a small sip.
“Not too bad. Tastes kinda weird, but it’s okay,” he said.
They took turns sipping the hot soup from the bottle, since they had no spoons to eat it with, and when they were done they made sure to put out the fire before heading out again.
“That was a good idea, Raych,” Brian told her as they walked along.
“Thanks,” she smiled.
“There’s just one problem with it, though,” he added.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Too much time. We spent hours collecting all that food, and building the fire, and cooking, and then cleaning up. We’ve got to make better time than that or we’ll never get anywhere,” he said, hating to say so. The smile faded from her lips and she sighed.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. We’ll just have to think of something else, or do without for a little while,” she finally agreed.
“I’m sorry,” he told her.
“Sorry for what?” she asked.
“For not thinking about this. We should have bought some supplies back when we went through that last little town. Then we wouldn’t have this problem,” he told her.
“I didn’t think about it, either. Don’t worry about it. We won’t starve, even if we have to go hungry for a few days,” she said grimly.
“I guess so,” he agreed, unsatisfied, and then he thought of something.
“I do have one other idea,” he suggested.
“So spill it. I’m listening,” she said.
“What if I gave you the amulet? Then you could do everything I did, for seven days. Then we’d have plenty of food. You could turn a piece of driftwood into a steak, if you wanted to,” he offered.
“Hmm. . . “ she said.
“Hmm? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“It means I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, nice as it sounds,” she told him.
“Why not?” he asked.
“Well. . . you remember what Miss Sadie and all the stories told us, don’t you? That amulet was meant for you, not for just anybody. I doubt we could get it to work for me at all, and even if we did, it still feels an awful lot like breaking the rules,” she said.
“So you’re saying it might be dangerous even to try?” Brian asked.
“Something like that. I think at the very least we’d be taking a major risk of having the pointer close up again, like it was with you at first. And if something like that happened. . . “ she said, and then trailed off meaningfully.
Brian didn’t need to ask what she meant. They both knew exactly what would happen if they lost their only guide. The whole journey would have been for nothing, and then for Rachel and Brandon the last spark of hope would be extinguished.
This was a possibility Brian hadn’t considered up till then, but he couldn’t deny that it cast things in a whole new light. He very well might not have the right to pass on the amulet to someone else, and in that case the consequences for doing so might be severe. He knew all too well what could happen if you were careless about things like that.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that,” he finally admitted.
“I don’t know for sure what would happen, of course, but I definitely think it’s too much of a risk. Don’t you?” she continued.
“Yeah, I’m just afraid the more time goes by and the hungrier we get, the less we’ll remember that and the more we’ll want to take the risk, even though we know what it might cost us,” he told her.
She stopped dead in her tracks when he said that and turned to face him.
“No, Brian. We will not do that, no matter how hungry we get or whatever else might happen. We can’t. Now swear to me you won’t give me that amulet, even if I ask for it. Even if I beg for it. No matter what I say or do, you keep that chain around your neck till this thing is done. Okay?” she asked, grabbing his hands in hers and looking at him intently.
“All right, I promise,” he said.
“Good,” she said. They kept looking at each other for a moment after that, then she dropped his hands and they started walking again.
“How long do you think we can hold out with no food?” he asked. He knew what it was like to go on short rations for a week or so; there’d been quite a few times when Mama was broke and a school lunch was the only food he had for the day. But he’d never gone completely hungry, and he doubted Rachel ever had, either.
“I guess we won’t know for sure till we give it a shot. We’ll either make it or we’ll die trying,” she said.
“It might get really bad,” he said.
“I’m sure it probably will. We just have to remember what the price will be if we crack, that’s all,” she said grimly.
It did get bad as the day wore on, bad enough that Brian was tempted again to bring up the idea of giving Rachel the amulet. Only the fear of what she might think of him if he did kept him from saying it.
These thoughts kept him too preoccupied to pay much attention to the world around him, other than to check the pointer from time to time to make sure they were still going in the right direction. But near dusk, Rachel suddenly stopped and whistled.
“What is it?” he asked, startled.
“Look there,” she said, pointing through the trees to their right. Brian looked in that direction and immediately saw what she was pointing at. It was an old house or a cabin of some kind, unlikely as that seemed. The place looked deserted.
“Let’s go check it out,” she suggested.
“Might as well. I doubt we’ll find anywhere better to spend the night,” he agreed.
They made short work of the distance, and soon emerged into a ragged clearing. The cabin had a rusty tin roof and some of the boards had rotted around the foundation, but when they went inside they found that the floor was still solid enough. It was just one room, with a table and chairs and an old creaky set of wooden bunk beds by the wall near the door. There was a rock fireplace against the opposite wall, and a few shelves with various items sitting on them. Everything was coated in a thick layer of grime and dust, as if nobody had be
en there in a hundred years.
“What do you think this place was? Deer hunter’s cabin?” she asked.
“Yeah, if I had to guess. Looks like nobody’s been here for a long time, though,” he said.
“Well, I guess it’ll do for one night. Better than sleeping in the woods,” she said, looking at the place.
“Yeah, no doubt,” he said.
“Well, hey, why don’t we look around a little bit? We might find some things we could use,” she suggested.
“Sure, why not?” he agreed.
So they poked through the stuff on the shelves and looked under the bed and even outside in the yard. Brian found an ancient hammer with a rusty head, and then, much to his delight, an old guitar with a broken strap shoved into the closet.
But it wasn’t till they went back outside that they found the pear tree.
“Look!” Rachel cried, spotting it first. Brian turned his head and saw it immediately. The branches were heavy with ripe fruit, some of it already fallen and rotting on the ground, but there was still plenty left on the tree. Rachel was already headed for it.
Brian hurried after her, and as soon as they reached it they helped themselves to several fruits apiece. Then Brian put a hand on Rachel’s arm.
“Stop. Don’t eat too much or it’ll make you sick,” he warned her.
“True,” she sighed.
“Come on, though. Let’s pick some and take them inside. We can eat some more later,” he suggested.
They each collected a double armful of fruit, putting it down on the table inside the cabin. The fragrance of the pears soon filled the little room and made it seem almost cheerful.
“We should carry some with us when we leave tomorrow. I know they’ll get old after a while but they’re a lot better than nothing,” Rachel said.
“Yeah, I’ll empty the backpack and we’ll fill that up, and maybe we could use one of the t-shirts as a sack, if we tied the arms and the neck closed,” he suggested.
“Yeah, that’ll work,” she agreed.
Brian lit a fire in the old hearth, more for something to do than because there was any real need. It was a warm night. Then they both pulled up chairs and watched the dancing flames lick the wood. After a while, Brian picked up the old guitar to strum it thoughtfully. It was still in pretty good tune, surprisingly enough.
“Do you play?” Rachel asked, watching him curiously.
“Just a little bit,” he admitted shyly.
“Play me something,” she asked.
“I don’t know, Raych. I’m not all that good,” he said, and she laughed.
“Oh, come on. You’re better than me, I’m sure. I promise I won’t laugh,” she said.
Brian thought about it, and decided he could make an exception just this once. If she laughed it wouldn’t kill him.
“All right,” he agreed. He took a minute to consider what she might like, and found himself at a loss. He didn’t know enough about what she enjoyed. Then he decided to go with Unclouded Day. If he didn’t let himself think about it too much, maybe he could pretend he was playing it for Brandon. That would make things a lot easier.
He started out uncertainly, his voice soft and his fingers slow, but after a while he got the feel of it and almost forgot she was listening. He shut his eyes to focus on the music, and when the song was done he opened them to see her crying.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, alarmed.
“No, I’m just sappy, that’s all. Songs like that always make me cry,” she said, smiling through her tears.
“I hoped you’d like it,” he said, still uncertain.
“I loved it, Brian. I’m surprised you don’t join the band. You’re good,” she told him.
“You really think so?” he asked, absurdly pleased.
“Yeah, I really do. Play some more,” she asked.
So he did, all the songs he could remember, and for a while they were both lost in the music. It reminded Brian of the bonfire party before the football game, only better. Sharing something he loved with a friend was a rare pleasure for him. Happiness was the last thing he’d ever expected to find on a journey like this, but there it was, popping up in the oddest place and time he could possibly have imagined.
Not long afterward they climbed into the bunk beds for the night. It was still fairly early, but they were tired and had another long day ahead in the morning.
“You can have the top bunk,” he offered, feeling generous, and she laughed.
“Mighty kind of you. Thanks,” she said, and climbed up.