“I’m only kidding,” Warner said. “Why can’t you guys take a joke? Why is everyone so uptight?”
Sierra began to wonder if her dislike of Warner had rubbed off on the others and they were now taking her side and trying to reform Warner in three easy steps to make him more acceptable to Sierra. If she honestly were a team player, as Randy said, and if she had considered Warner’s feelings, she wouldn’t have thrown the first stone by snapping at him about not stopping until they reached Corvallis.
And look, she thought, we stopped after all. So my statement was worthless.
“You guys,” Sierra said, “I don’t think I’ve exactly been a terrific team player. I was rude to you, Warner, and I apologize.”
Warner looked at each of them and shrugged his thin shoulders. “Okay. Can we get going?”
“Okay,” Sierra said, reaching across the seat for the keys Randy held out to her.
Vicki opened the passenger door and started to get in the front seat.
“Whoa!” Warner said, crawling out of the backseat of the van. “That’s my seat.”
“Your seat?” Vicki said, picking up the empty snack bags and stuffing them into the litterbag hanging from the glove compartment. “And is this your trash, too? I say whoever picks up the trash gets to ride in the front. It’s not very far to Corvallis.”
“I take the front,” Warner said, motioning for Vicki to move with an aggressive jerk of his thumb. “I get carsick unless I ride in the front seat.”
Sierra glanced at Amy, whose dark eyes grew wide. Vicki’s face took on the same look of disbelief.
“You mean you expect to ride in the front seat all the way to California and back?” Vicki said, still not moving from the seat.
“Unless you want me to barf all over everyone in the back.”
Vicki quietly exited and took her seat next to Amy on the middle bench. Warner scrambled in and closed the door with a slam that Sierra knew would have prompted her dad to say, “Not so hard. You’ll break it.”
Instead, Sierra said, “Warner, why did you want to come on this trip?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’d like to know what your idea of a road trip is.”
“This,” he said. “Why?”
Vicki leaned forward. “Have you ever gone anywhere with friends before?”
“The band went up to Longview a couple of months ago.”
“Longview,” Amy repeated. “That’s like forty miles away. You’ve never traveled with friends or family before?”
Warner shook his head. “No. What’s the big deal? I wanted to come because everyone else was coming.”
“Not everyone,” Vicki said. “Tre couldn’t come. Margo and Drake decided not to come. I don’t understand why you wanted to.”
“Do I need to spell it out?”
“Yes, if you could,” Sierra said calmly. “It would help.”
“Because I hang out with you guys,” Warner said in a monotone.
“You’re saying we’re your friends?” Vicki asked. “ ’Cause if that’s what you’re saying, Warner, then you need to treat us a whole lot nicer than you have been. Friends don’t treat friends the way you’re treating us.”
“She has a point,” Randy said. “You need a little work in that area, buddy. We’re all willing to hang in there with you, but come on. You have to move our way a little, too. I mean, try to be a team player here. That’s all we’re saying.”
Warner still looked as if he just didn’t get it. Sierra gave up and started the van. “Let’s get back on the road. Wes is going to wonder what happened to us.” Secretly, she hoped that Wes would turn out to be the ideal referee for this volatile group of team players and that he could talk some consideration into Warner.
They arrived in Corvallis without any complications, mostly because Sierra ignored Warner and then focused on finding her way to where Wes lived. They located the house he shared with several other college guys, and Sierra parked the van in the church parking lot next to the old two-story house, just as her dad had instructed her. Wes came out to greet them before they even made it up the stairs to the front door. The sight of her dear older brother had a calming effect on Sierra.
Wes physically resembled their dad, especially his eyes, which were a warm brown color, and he had the same brown, wavy hair as their dad, except that Wes had a full head of hair and no receding hairline. He was over six feet tall, which comforted Sierra, because by virtue of size alone Warner was no longer the biggest of their group.
“Why don’t you go in and call Mom?” Wes suggested. “I’m not quite ready. It might be a good idea for you guys to hang out here and stretch your legs awhile.”
Sierra noticed that Warner immediately returned to the van. She guessed he was retrieving his skateboard, which he had stuck under the middle seat. As she walked up the steps to the front door with Wes, she began quietly to tell her brother about the conflict with Warner on the way down.
“I’ve done everything I can think of,” Sierra said as they entered the living room. “First, I invited him. That was nice. When he was rude, I snapped at him, but then I apologized. We all talked to him about being a team player, but he just doesn’t get it. He says he has to ride in the front seat the entire trip or he’ll get sick.”
Wesley’s eyebrows rose. Being from a large family, Wes and Sierra had learned early on to share whatever they had and to be considerate of others. That included “dibs” on the shotgun seat. Everyone took a turn.
“Do you want me to tell him I don’t want him to come?” Wes asked.
“How can you tell him that? He’s already here.”
“We could take him back to Portland. Or we could put him on a bus back, or call his parents and tell them it’s not going to work out for him to come.”
Sierra sighed. “I don’t know. Here I thought I was solving the problem by not excluding him, and now it’s worse because I invited him. I should have said no in the beginning and let him be mad at me.”
“You prayed about it, didn’t you?” Wes asked.
“Yes, I sincerely did.”
“Then you have to go on faith at this point. You have to believe he’s here for a reason.”
“Does that mean he has to stay?” Sierra asked.
“Not necessarily.” Wes glanced at his watch. “Why don’t you call Mom and Dad? Let them know you arrived, and I’ll see if my clothes are finished in the dryer so I can pack.”
“You haven’t started to pack?”
“It will take me only a few minutes,” Wes promised as he headed for the back of the house.
Sierra called home and chose to tell her parents only that the group had arrived safely and there had been no problems with the van. She didn’t want to bring up the Warner issue. “We did make one stop, though, outside of Salem. Vicki had to go to the restroom. I guess Wes is finishing his packing, and then we’re leaving. I’ll call you tomorrow when I have a chance.” Sierra knew her parents hadn’t asked her to call regularly to check in. She also knew they would really like it if she did.
“Great,” Mrs. Jensen said. “Have a wonderful time. We’re praying for you.”
Sierra hung up, feeling a little more optimistic. Wes was in the driver’s seat now, so to speak. He would take over and work things out. He would also be the responsible one in case anything went wrong. It was a position Sierra gladly relinquished.
She was about to head back outside when Amy came rushing in through the front door. “Sierra, come quick! It’s Warner! Tell Wes to come.”
“What happened?”
“Warner ran into a truck!”
eight
“WARNER WAS RIDING HIS SKATEBOARD,” Amy breathlessly explained as Sierra and Wes jogged with her down the street, “and this truck came around the corner. Warner caught up with it and grabbed the back bumper. Then the truck put on its brakes at the stop sign.”
“And Warner crashed into the back of the truck,” Sierra concluded as t
hey arrived at the scene of the accident. Warner was splayed out on the street. A dozen people had gathered around him.
“He thinks he broke his arm,” Vicki said. “One of the guys here already called the paramedics.”
Sierra noticed that Warner’s right arm was twisted in a scarecrowlike position, and he was grimacing. She knew it wasn’t very nice, but her first thought was to scold him by saying, “What were you thinking? Didn’t you even consider it might be dangerous?”
The paramedics arrived and carted Warner off to the hospital. Sierra was thankful Wesley was there to take over the job of calling Warner’s parents and explaining what had happened. Warner’s mom got directions to the hospital from Wes and urged them to go ahead and leave for their trip. She said that even if Warner’s arm weren’t broken, he couldn’t continue the trip with them. As Wes relayed it, Warner’s mom said that if Warner was going to take risks like that and not act responsibly, then he couldn’t enjoy the privilege of going on the trip. Apparently, the last thing Warner’s mom said to Wes was, “His father and I were so hoping this trip would be a breakthrough for him. Warner has never been good at friendships or responsibility.”
“I didn’t want something bad to happen to him,” Sierra said as the solemn group of five pulled into the hospital parking lot.
“Don’t start blaming yourself,” Vicki said quickly. “It was an accident, and it happened because Warner was being a daredevil and showing off. It had nothing to do with any of us.”
“I know what Sierra means, though,” Amy added. “I can’t help but feel bad, too.”
“Come on,” Wes said, turning off the van’s engine. “We’ll buy him some balloons and tell him we hope he feels better. That’s the best we can do. It’s all we can do.”
“Are you going to tell him his mom said he can’t continue on the trip?” Sierra asked.
“Unless you want to.”
“No thank you,” Sierra said.
After a stop at the hospital gift shop, Wes led them into the emergency room and the area where Warner was lying in bed.
“They told me it broke in two places,” Warner moaned when he saw them. “The doctor showed me the X rays. I can’t believe the idiot in that truck stopped so suddenly.”
“Idiot in the truck?” Vicki spouted. “Warner, you were the one who shouldn’t have been holding on to the bumper! What did you think would happen?” She stood the farthest from the bed and placed her hand on her hip.
“I’ve done it before, and nothing ever happened.”
“Here,” Sierra said, tying the string from the get-well balloons to the metal railing of Warner’s bed. “These are to cheer you up.”
“Thanks. But don’t you think they’ll be too much of a distraction for you in the van?”
“Warner,” Wes said, “your mom is coming. She said she didn’t want you to go the rest of the way. She’s taking you home.”
Warner looked stunned. “Why?”
“She will have to talk that through with you,” Wes said. “Did you tell her to come get me?”
“Nope. I called her and told her what had happened, and she told me exactly what I’ve relayed to you.” Wes looked at his watch. “She’ll probably be here within the next hour and a half. We can stay here with you, if you’d like.”
Warner looked depressed. For a fraction of a second, Sierra almost felt sorry for him. “No,” he finally said, his head down. “You guys need to get on the road. I don’t want to hold you back.”
“That’s really considerate of you,” Randy said. “We appreciate it.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Sierra said, giving Warner a weak but sincere smile.
“We all are,” Amy added. “I hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”
“I’ll be okay. You guys just go.”
“Thanks, Warner,” Wes said. “I’ll get your stuff from the van and bring it back in here for you.”
Warner nodded and gave a weak wave to the rest of them.
“I’ll put your card right here,” Sierra said, opening the envelope for him and laying the get-well card on his leg. “Take it easy, okay?”
Warner met her gaze with a more settled look than she had ever seen on his long face. It almost seemed as if he had grown up a little bit.
Sierra and the others were back in the van and twenty miles down the freeway before they started to talk about Warner. They needed that much time to process their thoughts and feelings.
“Do you think God lets bad things happen so that good things come out of it?” Vicki asked. “Like, I mean, what if this broken arm turns into a real humbling and growing experience for Warner? What if the lessons he learns from the broken arm are more valuable than the lessons he would have learned on this trip with us?”
“You mean the lessons we would have tried to cram down his throat,” Sierra said. “That’s my problem. I’m so quick to see where I think people are wrong and need to change, and then, just because it seems obvious to me, I think they should see it, too, and instantly desire to change.”
“At least you care enough to want to see your friends improve,” Randy said. “That’s not a bad thing, Sierra.”
“Unless she crams it down your throat, as she said,” Amy added.
Sierra looked at Amy, who was now seated in the front passenger seat, next to Wes. Amy didn’t turn to meet Sierra’s gaze, but Sierra knew exactly what Amy was thinking. “I know, I know,” Sierra said. “My track record for tact and gentleness isn’t that great. You’ve had to endure the brunt of that, Amy. I hope I’m getting a little better at being a good friend.”
“Yeah, as long as we keep all air horns away from you,” Amy said.
Sierra cringed. The air horn had to be one of her silliest moves. In an effort to show Amy she was on her side, last fall Sierra had followed Amy and her old boyfriend, Nathan, as they left The Beet, a local teen nightspot. When Sierra saw Nathan grab Amy’s shoulders, she had sounded an air horn behind him to give Amy a chance to run away. Only Amy had had no need of Sierra’s assistance and so didn’t run anywhere. Sierra still couldn’t believe she had done that.
“At least you admit when you’re wrong,” Vicki said. “That quality in and of itself makes you a good friend. My problem is I’m so afraid people will get mad at me or decide they no longer like me that I have a hard time admitting I’m wrong.”
“Not always,” Sierra said.
“Maybe not in the last eight months or so, ever since summer camp when I got my life back on track with God. But before then, I never willingly would admit I was wrong. Isn’t that right, Amy?”
“I’m staying out of this.”
“Well, it’s true,” Vicki said. “But that’s all in the past, and it’s all been forgiven, right?”
“Right,” Sierra said when no one else spoke up.
“We need to move on,” Vicki said. “Move on in our friendships and move on now that Warner isn’t with us. We can’t spend the whole trip feeling responsible.”
“Right,” Sierra added again.
“It does feel different, though, doesn’t it?” Vicki said. “I mean, it feels like a completely different trip than the first two hours when we had Warner and didn’t have Wes.”
“Are you saying you made a good trade?” Wes said with a sly grin at Vicki in the rearview mirror.
“Definitely,” Amy said. “No offense, you guys, but I’m so relieved Warner isn’t going any farther with us. He would have been a pain the whole time.”
“I think it feels more peaceful now,” Sierra said. “Is that how you guys feel? It’s much calmer.”
“That’s because Randy is asleep back there,” Wes said, glancing again in the mirror.
Randy mimicked loud snoring noises from the backseat.
“Randy is just being his usual, peacemaking self and not saying much,” Vicki observed.
“Snoring like that isn’t going to make a lot of peace with me at night, I can tell you that,” Wes said.
&nbs
p; “Oh, right,” Sierra jumped in. “You snore much worse than that, Wes, and I have proof.”
“Anyone else getting hungry?” Wes asked. “I need to buy some gas, so we might as well eat, too.”
“Don’t try to change the subject,” Sierra teased her brother. “You might as well confess to everyone now, since we’re going to be in close quarters for a long time. They’ll find out sooner or later.”
“Okay, okay, I snore like a chain saw. There. Now you all know.”
“Gavin even recorded him this Christmas to show him how loud he snores.”
“He turned up the volume on the recorder,” Wes said, putting on his turn signal and moving into the slow lane.
“He did not! That’s exactly how you sound,” Sierra said.
“Any preferences on where we stop for dinner?”
“Anywhere. Except maybe not Burger King,” Vicki said. “I had Burger King last night.”
“I had McDonald’s for lunch,” Amy said.
“I could go for a sub sandwich,” Randy said.
Wes laughed. “Opinionated bunch, aren’t you? Why don’t I pull off the freeway first, and then we can see what our options are.”
Before Wes could exit, a red light on the control panel came on and flashed a warning. “That’s strange,” Wes said.
“Is something wrong?” Sierra asked.
“I’m not sure. Did this light go on while you were driving?”
“No. I’ve never seen it go on before.”
A sudden hiss of steam began to spit from the van engine and rise up like a cloud in front of the windshield.
“Oh, boy,” Wes muttered. “Everybody hold on. I may have to pull over quickly. Houston, we have a problem.”
Sierra shot her brother a look that said, “How can you be trying to make jokes when we’re about to blow up here on the freeway?”
Wes was able to reach the off-ramp by turning on the windshield wipers and spraying the window to keep it clear. A distinct odor of moldy socks began to permeate the van.
“Smells like the radiator hose,” Randy said.
“You can tell what’s wrong with a car by its smell?” Vicki asked.
Sierra Jensen Collection, Volume 4 Page 5