They stopped in town for groceries.
At William’s place, they unloaded his car. His lawn was brown. He showed Sergei the spare bedroom. They returned outside to get their bags.
William was about to call Tom when Tom drove in and parked behind William’s dusty car. “Saw you in the store but you were just leaving, William. Is this Sergei?” Tom and Sergei shook hands. “Sorry to hear about your father, Sergei. William here really liked him. Spoke of him often. Is that a fishing rod in your pack?”
William pulled the plastic box holding the sliver from his pocket. “Here’s what’s left of the sliver, Tom.”
Tom opened the box and poked the tiny sliver. “What’s it made of?” Tom pointed into the box.
“Mammoth bone. We know that,” said Sergei.
“How old?”
“At least 12 thousand years, perhaps more.” Tom whistled. “We tried the carbon dating method, and could not get a reading. Often, this happens. But this is mammoth, and that itself makes this an astounding find. This could have come from a spear thrower fashioned by the first people who visited this land.”
“‘Eye, we’ll have to go get that atlatl.”
“Only if we can get permission to take Sarah back in the park,” William said. “How is she, by the way?”
“Not good, ‘Eye. Ruth called me again last week. You know what that must have cost her. Says Sarah won’t leave the property. Says all she’s been doing is playing with willows and branches in the back yard. I’m worried.”
A jeep stopped out front. Myra got out from the passenger side. Myra was with Pete, one of the surveyors who had helped them find Sarah the previous spring. Pete got out, too. Tom put the sliver back in the small case and placed the case in a pocket.
Myra was in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. Her long braids hung beneath a hat. She was dusty and her hands were dirty. Pete was dusty too. They seemed at ease together as they walked across the small front lawn.
“Dad. Tom.” Myra did not look happy. “We have a problem.”
Pete stood uncomfortably behind Myra. Myra was focused only on Tom.
William stepped forward. “Sergei, this is, er, Pete, Myra’s friend, and this is my daughter, Myra. Myra, this is Sergei, Alec’s son. He came across on the ship with me. He’ll be with me here for a few weeks. He wants to see the park.”
Pete shook Sergei’s hand. Next to Sergei, Pete was short.
“Tom.” Myra sounded urgent. “Have you heard from Ruth?”
“Not since last week. Why?”
“Sarah’s been with me since last night. She showed up about seven o’clock. I hadn’t seen her for weeks.” Myra tugged Tom and William away from Sergei and Pete. “Pete’s been helping me rebuild my kitchen. We’re putting in a new sink. Now Sarah’s helping us, too.”
“Have you phoned Ruth and told her where Sarah is?”
“No, Tom. Sarah said Lynch pulled a Mitch on her. She was upset.”
“Pulled a Mitch?”
“Don’t you remember, Tom? On our trip she said her stepfather’s son, Mitch Junior, came after her. Whatever he tried to do, Sarah says Fletcher Lynch tried to do.”
Tom went pale. “Do you believe her, Myra?”
“She believes it, Tom. She knows the consequences of running away. She’ll be sent away, to foster care, or juvie, until her stepfather calls for her. She knows that, and she’ll do anything to avoid that. Yet she still ran anyway.”
“Who knows she’s at your place?” Tom asked.
“Well, me, Pete, now you guys.”
“Will Pete tell Lynch? Doesn’t he work for Buckhorn?” William asked.
“I think he can be trusted, dad.”
William watched Pete. He was trying to talk to Sergei. Sergei was half listening, while watching them. “No call from Ruth, Tom?” William asked. It was mid-afternoon. Sarah had been away for nearly a day.
“Nothing, ‘Eye. No visits, either, to see if Sarah was with me. Jesus.” Tom kicked the ground. “Her word against Lynch’s, unless there’s physical evidence.”
“He didn’t rape her, Tom,” said Myra. “Sarah was clear about that. She said she nailed him, that’s the word she used, nailed him, when he came at her.”
“Hit him? Was she bruised herself?”
“No. She said she gave him a good one with a dart, right across the kisser.”
“Dart? You mean, like from a spear thrower?” Tom asked.
“I think so, Tom. She hurt Lynch, somehow. Now she’s afraid, and alone.”
“And if she’s found she’ll be returned to the Lynch’s. Or placed in a youth home somewhere while they investigate her allegations. My God.” Tom paused, thinking. William felt Tom quivering beside him. Tom was pissed. “That son of a bitch Lynch abused my daughter all those years ago and she ran away, at 15, and now he’s done it again, to my granddaughter. And Ruth must know what’s going on and is afraid to confirm it. Maybe she fears him.” Tom looked back at Sergei and Pete, who had wandered to Pete’s jeep, where Pete was showing Sergei a box of fishing lures. “They won’t place her with me, not after last spring. Lynch accused me of lack of judgment. Carelessness. Possible dementia. Damn.”
“How much does Sergei know?” Myra asked, her eye on Sergei and Pete.
“I told him and his father Sarah’s tale when I saw them in July. Thought that was the least I could do, after they agreed to test the sliver. Sergei wants to see where all this happened, because his father was planning to go there himself, before he got sick. Sergei wants to go back in there, get the thrower, and date it properly.”
Myra observed Sergei. She seemed suspicious. “Dad, if we go back in there with Sarah to find the atlatl, we can’t let anyone know what we’re doing. She has to disappear, and so must we.” Myra shook her head. “Yet if she stays here, she’ll be placed somewhere, and no place is safe.”
“At some point, Lynch and Ruth will have to sound the alarm if she’s missing,” said Tom. “And if we took her back in there we’ll all be kidnappers, again, and irresponsible, again.”
“What choice do we have?” Myra scuffed her toe in the grass. “If Sarah stays with me they’ll figure out where she is eventually, with me on the res, and come for her. If we return her, it’s back to Lynch’s abuse, Ruth’s silence. Or she enters the foster system and maybe even worse. She deserves better than that.”
“If we take her, we just hold off the inevitable. When we come out she’ll be taken then, Myra.” William spoke quietly. Pete and Sergei were still occupied with fishing lures. William imagined Sarah hauled away by the authorities, branded as a half-crazy, out-of-control, problem child. Then he pictured her returning from the park days from now with an ancient atlatl. Wouldn’t this give her some credibility to stand up to Lynch? “If we take her back into the park at least she’ll have some distance from the event with Lynch, and maybe we’ll find the atlatl. If we return with that, and Sarah found it, that might help.”
“If we’re going to go, we need to leave today, ‘Eye,” Tom said. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this. Myra, what about Pete?”
“I don’t know. He’s paid by Buckhorn and he knows I hate them. That’s a whole place we never talk about, his beliefs in the value of this mining and my objections. He’ll figure out where we’ve gone fast, though. He’s damn smart.”
“Will he remain quiet?”
“I don’t know, Tom. We’re not dating, really. He’s a decent guy. He’ll give me a ride back to my place now. I’ll tell him I’m going to wait there for someone to come for Sarah. He’s got to leave, anyway, he’s going to the Mariners game tonight with some friends. He wanted me to go too but then Sarah showed up.”
After Myra and Pete left, William explained to Sergei what had happened.
“Now? Today?”
“You wanted to go into the park, Sergei.
”
“Yes, William, but like this? This feels like escaping into the park. Your daughter does not like me, I can see that. I don’t want my presence to make this impossible.”
“Sergei, we need to take that girl out of here, otherwise she will be forced to go back with the Lynches.”
“But surely, William, Tom could take her to live with him?”
“I’d like to think so, but Tom and Myra and I are the ones who took her away from school last spring without permission, into the park, and then lost her for eight days. Tom’s been fired. Lynch has been telling stories that Tom has dementia and that Myra and I are just a couple of natives. I don’t think the state foster system will let Tom have her.”
From William’s shabby front lawn, the ridge of the Olympics towered. Mt. Angeles and Hurricane Hill shone brightly in the sun. Sergei studied the view and started to smile. “I am your captive, it seems. Like you, I very much would like to retrieve that spear thrower. How can I help?”
William and Sergei quickly packed. Sarah was at Myra’s, also packing. After seeing his granddaughter, Tom returned home, packed his own gear, and then came over to William’s place. On the way, he stopped at the park offices to pick up a small radio to receive weather reports. They knew if they left their vehicles at the trailhead, they would show everyone where they had all gone. Myra arranged for two friends, tribal members, to drive them to the trailhead, then return their vehicles to their homes.
“’Eye, now I need you to come with me, as my witness, before we leave. I need to have a heart to heart with Fletcher Lynch.”
Tom had talked with Sarah, who told him what had happened. Tom was very angry.
William rode with Tom over to Port Angeles. They drove into Fletcher and Ruth Lynch’s drive. Tom knocked on the door. William stood behind him. Ruth opened the door. She was stiff, rigid. William didn’t think she was surprised to see Tom.
“I need to talk to Fletcher. And you.” Tom was unflinching. “I know he’s here.”
Ruth saw William, looming behind Tom. “Why is he here?”
“Witness,” Tom said, just as Fletcher Lynch appeared in the hall. A large bandage ran from below his nose to his chin. Whatever Sarah used had been sharp.
“Ruth, call the police, please.” Fletcher spoke well enough.
“I know Sarah is not here.” Tom stepped into the doorway. Ruth could not close the door on him. “I know where she is. I just talked to her. I know what happened.”
Ruth’s brow furrowed. She seemed confused. She turned to Fletcher.
Lynch stepped forward and pulled Ruth back from the door. “That girl went crazy, tried to kill me. Now it seems she’s sending her grandfather to our home to threaten us.”
Tom ignored Lynch. He spoke to Ruth. “I always believed when Becky ran away there was more to her leaving than a drug problem and immaturity.” Ruth was confused, but Tom pressed on anyway. “I didn’t know Fletcher Lynch had a problem with little girls, not then. First, my daughter. Your daughter too, Ruth.” Lynch tried to pull his wife away from the door. Ruth resisted. William could see, in her face, dawning awareness. “Fletcher, yesterday you tried to abuse my granddaughter, a 13 year old girl. You tried to get her to play with you, and then threatened to send her away to foster care unless she cooperated.” Tom stood straight, bearing down on Lynch. Ruth, face gone pale, pulled her arm from Lynch’s grasp. “Sarah is a fugitive and needs protection,” said Tom, “protection from you, the abuser.”
“This is just a story, a fantasy,” Lynch turned to Ruth. “Honey, this is ridiculous.”
Ruth, William could see, did not think this ridiculous at all. She held the wall for support, mouth partly open, staring at her husband.
Lynch turned back to Tom. “Leave. You are not welcome here.”
“I know that’s why you didn’t call me today, Ruth, or why Fletcher here didn’t come over to see where Sarah was. I think you knew what might have happened, and you didn’t want to know. I’m sorry, but you have to know, because that young girl is having a rough time and she’s your blood. Our blood. Ruth, I’m sorry.”
When the door closed, Ruth’s cry echoed through the walls. They started away from the house,
“They won’t call out the posse for a while, ‘Eye. Jesus. Ruth always pissed me off, but Jesus. She’s been blinding herself, all this time. Let’s grab Sarah, Myra and Sergei and get out of here. This trip, I don’t think Sarah will be complaining, given her alternative back here.”
“She didn’t complain last trip, Tom.”
“She complained about me.”
“Well, maybe she had her reasons. This time, out there, don’t give her any reasons.”
Myra’s two friends drove them to the trailhead. Once dropped off, they arranged their gear and mounted their packs. Sergei loaded his pack some distance away. William helped Sarah put on her pack. He was surprised to see his aluminum fishing rod case on Sarah’s pack, four feet long, three inches in diameter. “You’re going to try fishing? That’s an awkward thing to carry when we go off trail. It’ll catch branches.”
“Not fishing, William.” Sarah followed Tom onto the trail. Sergei followed Sarah. Myra and William were alone in the parking lot. The sun would set within two hours.
“Myra, what about your job?”
“I talked to my boss, Marcie. Fortunately, she hadn’t left for the day. I explained that Sarah was fleeing a bad situation and I needed to take some unpaid time to work with her.”
“Tom might have some claim to Sarah, Myra. He’s Sarah’s grandfather. But you and me? We aren’t family. “
“Sarah thinks we’re family.”
His pack was big and heavy, as always. He didn’t weigh as much as he did at the start of the last trip but the pack still hurt.
“Dad, are you worried you aren’t up to this?”
“We’re going to have to move fast, Myra.”
“Look, dad, you were fine by the end of the last trip. You’ll be fine this time too. Just be careful.”
They started in. Once the trail entered the trees the light grew dim. The sun, to the right, barely lay above the ridges. The light was long, yellow, slanting.
A half-mile in, Sergei was already sitting beside the trail, pack off, tending to his feet. He waved them on. He and Myra had not spoken to each other. Just beyond, Tom and Sarah had stopped. As soon as William and Myra appeared, they headed off.
William caught up with Sarah. She shrugged ahead, her small form leaning forward, pack rising above her shoulders and head. He could see the top of her knit hat, bobbing. The rod holder stuck up high. She had grabbed a branch from alongside the trail for a walking stick. The stick plunked on the ground as she walked.
Tom was further ahead, setting a fast pace. They wanted to camp near the stream where Sarah had fallen in the previous trip.
“Why are you bringing my fishing holder if you aren’t going to be fishing?” The battered rod holder had travelled with William for many miles. It was strange to see it on someone else’s pack.
“My experiment,” she said. “We get up there, I’ll show you.”
Their voices echoed through the dark trees.
“Experiment?”
“There was nothing to do there.” Sarah was referring to the Lynches. “Nothing. Their television had rules and they had nothing to read. Fletcher followed me around. Only place I felt safe was out back, so I went out there.”
William remembered Tom mentioning Ruth’s comments about Sarah working with willows and twigs in the back yard. “You made a spear thrower. Then you made darts. You practiced.”
“Shit.”
“Am I right? How’d you know how to make darts and a thrower?”
Sarah stopped and turned, faced him as if he was an idiot. “How about, I went on the Internet one day and saw some videos?”
“What d
id you use for points?”
“I raided Fletcher’s collection and used them. He hadn’t noticed by the time I left. Asshole.”
“So you have darts in that holder, not my rod. And the thrower you made, is it in your pack? What, you fought off Fletcher Lynch with one of your darts?”
“Cut him with his own point. What else could I do?”
“At least you didn’t throw a dart into him. Wiry person like you, it would have gone right through him.”
“I wish it had.”
Sarah swung forward and started off. William watched her march away. Myra caught up with him.
“What’s so funny?”
“Myra, Fletcher Lynch doesn’t know how lucky he is.”
It was nearly dark by the time they reached the cabin and campsite. The stream, which in May had been flowing, was now, in August, a trickle. They pitched the tents and gathered water. Sergei, Sarah and Tom went for wood.
“I don’t like Sergei.” Myra could see Sergei and Tom down on the meadow gathering wood.
“Give him a chance, Myra. He and I spent time together on the ship. He’s a serious scientist. Like you, he defends his beliefs. Try thinking of him as someone who can help carry me out if I collapse.”
“I think I’d leave him in here, if he collapses.”
“Ah. You like him.”
“I do not. He’s arrogant.”
“He’s half Koryak. A cousin.”
“Not my cousin.”
They started a small fire. There were some mosquitoes. Down on the meadows by the river, fireflies danced. Tom made tea.
“Looks to me as if nobody moved any of our backrests since we were here last spring,” said Myra, leaning exactly where she had leaned months before. Sarah was next to her, and Tom and William were across the fire. Sergei was off to the side. He had said almost nothing. He’d pitched his tent some distance away, beneath trees.
“So did you date that thing?” Sarah asked Sergei. “That sliver?” Sergei had been gazing at the fire, sad. William believed he was still mourning his father.
Sergei spoke quietly. “If the authorities find out where young, er, Sarah is, will we be arrested?”
Strong Heart Page 13