Wilder Boys

by Brandon Wallace

  Skeet stroked his beard. “Yeah, boys. I think I can.”

  Skeet drove the boys back into Grand Teton National Park. As they drove through the tiny town of Moose, Taylor suddenly exclaimed, “Jake, wait a minute. This town is called Moose. Could this be what Dad was talking about in his journal?”

  “Possibly,” Jake said, “but I think maybe Dad had another moose in mind.”

  Skeet continued driving to Moran Junction and then turned left. Instead of driving on to Yellowstone National Park, however, Skeet turned onto a smaller road that led them to a tiny boat dock. In a small bay, a couple of dozen boats had been anchored in the calm waters of Jackson Lake. Skeet parked and turned off the truck.

  “What are we doing here?” Taylor asked.

  “Well,” Skeet answered, “look all the way across the lake. You see that steep valley?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s called Waterfalls Canyon. If you look carefully, you’ll see two steep waterfalls. They don’t look like much from here, but each one of them is more than two hundred feet high.”

  Taylor looked at Jake. “Is one of them the waterfall Dad mentioned in his letter, Jake? How do you know?”

  Jake pointed to a small low island less than half a mile offshore. “Because that’s Moose Island.”

  Taylor grinned. “How’d you find it?”

  “I didn’t until I starting looking at Skeet’s maps. Then I saw that the island and the waterfalls lined up with the clues in the letter. To find directions to his hidden valley, he said to look west across the moose’s neck to where the wildflower falls.”

  “Those waterfalls are called Wildflower Falls?” Taylor asked, confused.

  “Columbine Cascade,” Skeet clarified. “Columbine is a kind of wildflower.”

  “Ah . . .” Taylor understood. “But, Jake, those falls are on the other side of the lake. How are we going to get over there?”

  “Leave that to me,” Skeet said, climbing out of the truck. “Grab your stuff.”

  The boys and Cody followed Skeet to a small marina building. Next to it lay a long shape under a tarp. Skeet removed the tarp to reveal a beautiful forest-green fiberglass canoe with two paddles.

  “This is yours?” Jake asked.

  “Yep. The guys who run the marina let me keep it here during the summer. It saves me a lot of walking to get around the lake. Figured it might do the same for you.”

  “You’re going to let us take it?” Taylor asked.

  Skeet grinned. “Well, you gotta bring it back if you can. Otherwise, pull it up onshore on the other side, and I’ll fetch it later. It’s about three miles to the other side. I figure if you paddle hard, you can make it across the lake in about an hour—unless the wind comes up. Then all bets are off.”

  “There’s no wind,” Taylor observed. “We won’t have any trouble.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” Skeet warned. “I’ve seen boats capsize on this lake. Now, hurry up!”

  The boys carried the canoe down to the water’s edge, placed their packs in the bottom, and strapped on the life jackets left in the boat.

  “Hop in!” Taylor told Cody, and the dog leaped into the canoe.

  Before they climbed in, they each shook Skeet’s hand. “Thanks for all your help,” Jake said. Despite the turmoil he was in, he knew that they couldn’t have gotten this far without Skeet’s help—they’d learned so much from him. It would be hard work going into the unknown without him.

  “Yeah,” said Taylor. “You saved us.”

  Skeet grinned. “Just returning the favor, boys. Now go on and get out of here!” With his good arm, Skeet helped push them away from the shore, and without looking back, the boys began paddling.

  Cutting between Cow Island and the north tip of Moose Island, the boys headed out into open water, making a beeline for Waterfalls Canyon on the far side of the lake. Cody stood with his paws at the edge of the canoe, as if he were the captain of a ship.

  Jake provided the steering and most of the power while Taylor added what manpower he could, and they quickly covered the first mile or so. We’ll be there in no time, Jake thought.

  Then, suddenly, the wind swept down from the north. To keep from being carried all the way to the south end of the lake, the boys had to point the canoe northwest and paddle hard into the gusts.

  “Oh man,” said Taylor, quickly tiring. “Skeet was right about the wind. This is brutal.”

  Jake didn’t even grunt; he just strained hard against his paddle. The struggle was a relief from the thoughts whirling around in his mind. One moment he was back in the motel room with Bull, replaying over and over what had happened. The next moment he was struggling with the paddles, water splashing into his face and clouding his vision. He kept telling himself that he had to do it—it was self-defense. Right? But would the cops see it that way? What if he’d killed Bull? He would be a monster—just like him.

  The wind continued to buffet the canoe, pushing it like a sail. Soon Jake’s arms and back burned from effort. It took the boys what felt like hours to cover the distance across the lake. Finally, though, the longed-for shoreline came into view. Hopping out of the boat, they felt the rocky lake bed beneath their feet and managed to hoist the canoe up and onto the shore, collapsing in exhaustion next to the boat.

  “Oh man, that was rough,” Taylor said, groaning.

  “No kidding,” Jake replied.

  After recovering their strength, the boys hid Skeet’s canoe among some pine trees and, reluctantly, hoisted their packs.

  “How are you feeling?” Jake asked.

  “My leg’s okay,” said Taylor. “I just don’t have any energy. It’s like it’s been drained out of me.”

  “Do you want to stay here while I go look for some clues?” Jake asked.

  Taylor shook his head. “I can do it. I just might need to rest every once in a while.”

  “No problem,” Jake said. He hoisted the large backpack Skeet had given him onto his shoulders, and then he slung his smaller day pack across his chest. When his brother had done the same, they set off for Waterfalls Canyon.

  The canyon was shaped like a big U, having been carved by glaciers thousands of years earlier. Without a hiking trail, the terrain proved difficult. The boys had to climb over rocks and hop across fallen logs and other obstacles. The dramatic view felt like the perfect backdrop for the drama they’d been through.

  Even though the boys had spent several days on the edge of the Tetons, this was the first time they actually felt like they were going into them. Jake spun slowly around, taking in the jagged peaks, ice fields, and forests around them.

  As they walked, however, the grade grew steadily steeper, and the stream began to curve to the right. Then they saw it—an enormous waterfall ahead.

  “There it is,” Jake said. “Columbine Cascade.”

  “Wow,” said Taylor. “We’re going to climb up that?”

  “I guess we’ll have to. This is where the map says he’d be.”

  “What if there’s no one up there?”

  Jake just looked into Taylor’s eyes and shrugged. “We’ve come this far. There’s no turning back now.”

  At the base of the falls, both boys craned their heads back, studying the rock formations.

  “You think you can make it to the top?” Jake asked.

  “I can make it,” Taylor said, his jaw clenched with determination. “I say we go up the left side. It’s steep, but not impossible. What do you say, Cody?”

  Hearing his name, the dog barked and wagged his tail.

  “Okay, then. Left side it is,” said Jake.

  The climb was a challenge. More than once, they had to help each other scramble up steep pitches and across slippery scree. Their route led them around and away from the waterfall itself.

  “At least we don’t have to go to Wilderness Falls. That’s even higher up in the canyon,” Jake said, gasping for breath.

  Taylor was too weak to laugh, and they kept climbing.
>
  Finally they reached the top. To their left, upstream, the water cascaded down in a series of shorter falls and drops, but to the boys’ right, the water plunged in a dizzying fall of at least 150 feet. They stepped closer, and Jake shuddered looking at it.

  “Man,” said Taylor, also looking at what was almost a sheer drop. “Glad we’re not going down that.”

  Suddenly a gruff voice said, “Don’t be too sure.”

  24 The boys spun around. Dripping with sweat and with dried blood caked on his face, Bull stood in front of the boys, pistol in hand. Taylor let out a cry, and Jake drew in his breath—he’s alive!

  “Bull!” Jake exclaimed. “What the—?”

  “You should have swung harder with that lamp,” Bull sneered. “I always said you were no good at sports.”

  Suddenly Jake didn’t have to worry if he’d killed Bull anymore—he was very much alive. Jake wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified. The boys took a step back. Cody stood his ground and growled.

  “You better keep that mutt back or he takes the first bullet,” Bull told them. Taylor quickly reached down to restrain the terrier.

  “I was wondering when you three would show up,” Bull continued. “You made me wait a long time.”

  “H-how’d you get here?” Taylor sputtered, looking as pale as when he’d faced the mama bobcat.

  Bull held up some papers. Jake recognized one of them as his sketch from when he’d been trying to decipher his dad’s clues, and the other as one of his dad’s letters. “Turns out you’re a better artist than an athlete,” Bull said. “Between this and those directions your crazy father left, it didn’t take much to figure it out. And the folk around here know all kinds of shortcuts they don’t like to share with government types. All it took was a little persuasion and they were happy to help me . . . Apparently, you boys took the long way.”

  Bull stepped closer, reaching out for Jake’s day pack with his free hand.

  Jake and Taylor backed up to the water’s edge.

  Bull laughed. “Looks like you’ve run out of room this time, boys. It’s up to you: die from a bullet or go over the falls.”

  Jake slowly began removing his backpack when a voice suddenly rang out, “Get away from them! Now!”

  A tall man with long brown hair burst through a wall of shrubs behind Bull. Bull whirled, ready to fire his gun, but at the same moment, Cody leaped from Taylor’s grasp and sank his teeth into Bull’s ankle.

  Swinging wildly, Bull fired, and the bullet ricocheted off the nearby rocks. That was all that the tall stranger needed. He landed a right hook under Bull’s chin, sending him reeling. But Bull’s raw strength kept him from falling down, and he again raised his weapon to fire.

  This time the stranger launched himself at Bull. Jake and Taylor heard ribs crack as Bull went down, his pistol clattering across the rocks and splashing into the rushing stream. But Bull was only stunned. He twisted the stranger off of him and threw his own punch, connecting with the other man’s jaw. As the man fell back, he kicked Bull hard in the kidneys.

  Bull gasped and fell face forward, but he also kicked out, hitting the stranger’s stomach. Both men squirmed away from each other and staggered to their feet. Jake and Taylor looked on in bewilderment.

  “I—I don’t know who you are,” Bull said, panting, blood dripping from his cheek. “But you’re going to pay for this.”

  Again, Bull threw himself at the stranger, launching a devastating roundhouse kick. The stranger ducked just enough for the blow to glance off the top of his head, and the two men traded positions so that the stranger’s back was now to the waterfall.

  Bull grinned meanly. “Your meddling is through. Better say a prayer.”

  Bull lunged forward, but this time the stranger was ready. He sidestepped Bull, dodging the blow. Bull tried to stop himself, but the wet, loose shale might as well have been ice, and the missed punch threw him off-balance. With a cry, Bull tumbled forward into the fast-flowing stream. He desperately reached for a boulder next to him, and another rock on the other side, but his hands only skated across their wet surfaces. His eyes widened in terror, and he let out a piercing cry. Before anyone could react, the pounding white water seized Bull—and flung him over and into the falls.

  Jake and Taylor stood at the edge of the cascading water. Finally Taylor reached out for Jake’s hand, gripping it tightly. Jake turned to face the man who had helped them. He looked just as stunned as the boys.

  He also looked familiar.

  It wasn’t the long hair or the wild unruly beard, or even the clothes—it was the eyes. Jake recognized them as his own. For a moment he didn’t dare believe it, but the reality was too powerful to be ignored.

  “Dad?”

  Taylor also spun to meet the man’s gaze. “What?”

  The three of them stared at one another for a moment. The boys looked at each other in disbelief—they’d made it. They’d traveled halfway across the country, alone, against all the odds, and they’d found him.

  The man, realizing the enormity of what he saw in front of him, simply held out his arms and motioned the boys forward. “Come here.”

  The boys rushed into their father’s arms. None of them said anything for several long minutes—none of them needed to. They were back together for the first time in years.

  Finally the man pushed back. “Let me look at you. Are you both okay?”

  Taylor nodded.

  “Yes,” Jake murmured, almost unable to take in the situation. Then “Yes!” he said more loudly, overcome with happiness.

  The man quickly glanced at Taylor’s leg. “What’s this?”

  “I had a bit of a run-in with a bobcat,” Taylor replied.

  “And that’s just the beginning,” Jake continued.

  Abe Wilder’s large hands squeezed the boys’ shoulders, and tears began to slide down his cheeks.

  “We’ll get him patched up. The important thing is you . . . you came.”

  “How did you know we’d be here?” Taylor asked.

  “I camp here every year. Did you get the letters I wrote? With the directions?”

  “We got some letters,” Jake said. “Did you write others?”

  “I wrote one a year,” their father said, “hoping they would reach you.”

  “Bull probably took ’em,” said Taylor.

  Their father’s eyes darkened. “Was that Bull just now?”

  Taylor nodded. “That was him—the no-good son of a—”

  “He followed us out here,” Jake said, cutting his brother off. “He’s been living with us back in Pittsburgh, but he’s only been after Mom’s social security checks.”

  “Let’s sit,” Abe said. “You’d better tell me all about it.”

  The three of them and Cody sat on some moss-covered rocks away from the edge of the falls. Abe broke out some nuts, jerky, and dried berries, and while they ate, Jake and Taylor filled him in on the last several weeks—and years. Their father only interrupted occasionally to ask a question, and when they were finished, he shook his head. Again, tears spilled from his eyes.

  “Boys, I am so sorry. I never meant to put you through all this. But I have to say that I’m proud of you. You’ve coped with more than any kids your age should have had to. In fact, I shouldn’t even call you kids. What you’ve done goes beyond what many men could do.”

  “Well,” Taylor said with a grin, “we also had the world’s best dog with us.”

  Abe laughed and reached out to pet Cody. “That, you did.” Then he grew serious again. “Your mother. Is she okay?”

  Jake and Taylor glanced at each other.

  “We don’t really know,” Jake said. “She was in the hospital when we left, but we were trying to find out when Bull caught us in town.”

  “Yeah,” Taylor said. “Can we find out? Can we bring her here?”

  By this time darkness had begun to fall. “We’ve got a lot of things to figure out, boys,” Abe said. “I think we’d better ca
mp here tonight. In the morning we begin a new life.”

  “You never told us about the valley,” Jake said. “Did you really find it? Is it real?”

  Even in the fading light, Jake could see the gleam of his father’s smile. “Oh, I found it. It’s a ways from here, near the border with Yellowstone. I found it not long after meeting up with your friend Skeet. I built a cabin there, and it’s a place where we can all live.”

  The three of them spread their sleeping bags on a bed of moss thirty feet from the rim of the waterfall. They continued talking until Jake noticed a faint greenish wisp above Trapper Peak to the north. At first he thought that fatigue was making him see things, but the greenish wisps grew stronger and more elaborate.

  “Ah, boys, the sky is putting on a show for us tonight,” their dad said.

  “What is it?” Taylor asked. “Some kind of lightning storm?”

  “That, son, is the aurora borealis.”

  “The northern lights,” Jake murmured, suddenly understanding.

  “We’re fortunate. It doesn’t usually come so far south. It must be a good omen.”

  Jake just stared at the majestic sight above him and let out a contented sigh, unable to believe what he was seeing or who was sitting next to him. “It must be our lucky day.”

  WILDERNESS TIPS

  The American Goldfinch

  The American goldfinch is a small bird in the finch family, native to North America. Its huge migration range stretches from northern Alberta in the summer months, to southern Mexico in the winter.

  Its most noticeable feature is its bright yellow plumage contrasted against its black wing and tail feathers. However, this bright contrast is only apparent in the males in the summer months; in the winter, they revert to a duller olive color. The female American goldfinch displays a slightly subtler yellow hue in summer, and molts to a similar tan-olive color in the winter.

  The American goldfinch is the state bird of Iowa, New Jersey, and Washington.

  The Wandering Garter Snake

  The garter snake has a grayish color with dark spots and a light stripe running down the length of its back. These critters might look fierce but they aren’t venomous—unlike rattlers (like the prairie rattlesnake and midget faded rattlesnake), which are much bigger, with brown spots down their backs.