ALSO BY A. C. E. BAUER
No Castles Here
Come Fall
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2012 by A. C. E. Bauer
Jacket art copyright © 2012 by Claire Morgan/Trevillion Images
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bauer, A. C. E.
Gil Marsh / A. C. E. Bauer. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: High school track star Gil Marsh comes to terms with the loss of his close friend and teammate, Enko, and his own mortality while on a journey to find Enko’s grave in this modern retelling of the ancient Sumerian tale of Gilgamesh.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98311-5
[1. Death—Fiction. 2. Voyages and travels—Fiction. 3. Best friends—Fiction.
4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Track and field—Fiction.] I. Gilgamesh. II. Title.
PZ7.B3257 Gil 2012 {Fic]—dc23 2011024113
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment
and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
To the generations of family and friends
who have sat on the porch and loved the view
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1: Gil Marsh
2: Beast Boy
3: Homecoming
4: Antoine and Clotilde
5: Inseparable
6: Death’s Cheat
7: Flight
8: Apropoulis
9: Into the Cave
10: Maurice
11: North
12: Le Gros-Curé
13: The Crossroad
14: The Lake
15: Escape
16: Crossing the Lake
17: Loaves of Bread
18: The Immortal Man
19: Sunk
20: Homecoming
Glossary
Author’s Note and Acknowledgments
About the Author
First day of school. Coach yelled from across the field.
“Marsh! Meet our latest recruit.”
Gil stopped stretching and jogged over. Coach spoke to a boy dressed in a running tank and shorts. Thick black hair covered the boy’s knuckles and arms. It poked out from his chest, his shoulders and neck. It covered his legs. A beast boy, Gil thought.
“… help you out. He’s one of our best runners.” Coach turned to Gil. “Marsh, this is Enko Labette. He’s from Quebec.”
Hmph. Gil wasn’t one of the cross-country team’s best runners. He was the best. No one else came close. He had led James E. Uruk High School to Nationals two years in a row.
“Hi,” Gil said.
Enko extended his hand in an oddly formal gesture. Gil shook it.
Enko had a powerful grip—a ring on his pinky finger dug in slightly. He smiled, producing a deep dimple in his chin. He was trying hard to impress.
Well, let’s see what the beast boy could do.
“You follow me,” Gil told him.
He started the warm-up jog just a notch faster than usual. Enko didn’t break a sweat.
“Round the back, over the Rock!” Coach yelled to the team. “No clock today. Keep to the running trail. I want it clean and even.”
Clock or no, Gil took off, in a sprint now, almost at racing speed.
Enko followed.
They circled around the back of the school to one of the paths along the Green Valley Creek, over the footbridge to cross the water, then up the side of Overhang Rock. The other boys lagged behind.
Overhang Rock stood three hundred feet above town. Made of exposed, weathered red stone, it had a war memorial at the top, erected some ninety years ago by a veterans’ group. A running trail wound alongside a road that led to the memorial.
Gil ignored the running trail and chose a hiking path that switchbacked in the other direction, zigzagging at sharp angles around and up the other side of the Rock. At a walk, the trail provided a small challenge. At a run, it required all your concentration to get from one boulder to the next without falling. Gil could do the path in the dark—had done so numerous times. Enko, much to Gil’s surprise, took to it as if he could run it blindfolded.
By the time they reached the Memorial, sweat trickled down Gil’s back.
“We follow the road down,” he said. “Safer that way.”
Enko nodded. He wasn’t the least bit winded. Who was this kid?
Gil sprinted even faster downhill.
When they returned to the field behind the high school, Coach was waiting for them. “What the hell is the matter with you, Marsh? I said the running trail, not the climbing one!”
Gil leaned forward, hands on his thighs, panting. This had been more of a workout than he had expected. Enko breathed a little harder, too, but wasn’t out of breath.
“It’s okay, Coach,” Enko said. He had this weird French accent. “That was fun.”
Fun!
Coach scowled. “Maybe Marsh can learn something from you.” He might have said more, but off in the distance two runners trickled onto the field.
“Cool-down walks!” he yelled. “Everyone,” he added pointedly to Gil.
When Coach turned to address the other boys, Enko slapped Gil on the shoulder. Gil walked ahead, ignoring the gesture. Beast Boy had just outperformed him. No one had done that before. And Coach had noticed.
At lunch the next day, Gil sat beside Robert Spinozi, as usual. Jennifer Royland walked past with some friends and waved. Gil waved back. Jennifer was the most sought-after girl in school—Gil had been her date last year when she was the junior prom queen and he was a sophomore.
“Boy, you have it easy,” Robert said.
“What does that mean?”
“You’re popular, girls like you, teachers think you’re smart.”
“Takes work,” Gil said.
And he did put in effort. You needed to be liked to be popular. As team captain, he had made sure the cross-country team volunteered for school and civic activities. And when some teammates stole snacks reserved for the Special Ed room, he made them replace them, plus some. Granted, Gil was tall, blond and a boyish handsome, something that had come to him by luck. Still, he didn’t just sit back and wait for good things to happen.
“See the new kid?” Robert asked.
“He runs cross-country,” Gil said. Yesterday’s humiliation was still fresh in his mind. He lowered his voice. “A beast boy. He’s covered in hair.”
“Really?” Robert said.
Robert Spinozi was the Grand Central Station for Uruk High’s rumors. They all crossed his path, and he sent them out to every far-flung place in the school. Gil knew that Enko would be “Beast Boy” from here on in.
Somehow, the nickname never mattered.
In the shower after practice the next day, LeRoy Brown threw Enko a fine-toothed comb. “For your fur, Beast Boy.”
Enko examined the comb. “You know, it’s perfect for my arms.” He ran the comb over his biceps. “But I’ll need something stronger for my legs.” He waved the comb at LeRoy. “You sure you don’t w
ant to keep it for your chest?”
Laughter all around.
Nothing seemed to faze Enko.
“What’s with the pinky ring?” Frank Jones asked during warm-ups.
“My father gave it to me,” Enko explained. “It’s supposed to bring luck.”
No one bothered him about it after that. Besides, kids liked him.
He made fun of his own accent. “At the supermarket, I say ‘Excuse me,’ and the next thing I know, this older guy asks me what I think about a bottle of wine.”
“What’d you say?” LeRoy asked.
“ ‘It’s from Bourgogne.’ ” He pronounced it the French way. Boor-gone-yuh.
LeRoy appeared impressed.
Enko dropped his voice and grinned. “It says so on the label.” He paused. “In English.”
He became a rising star. He was a good student and a great athlete. Although stockier than Gil, he had more endurance. His times were faster, too—always a notch ahead.
People paid attention. “Marsh, you stick to Labette,” Coach decreed. Boys started asking Enko about his warm-up routine, what he ate, his favorite shoes.
In public, Gil was magnanimous. “The team will be unbeatable,” he told Robert, “now that it has both Enko and me.” But it bothered him. Until now, he had been first, he had been looked up to. He needed to take corrective action.
Gil had always trained at daybreak. He ran the Rock’s hiking trails, leaping boulders and scrambling up steep faces to the top, with its panoramic view of the valley below. He’d whoop at the wind whipping off the cliff’s edge, and welcome the rising sun with a bow. He felt alive up there, as if he were in charge of the waking world.
Now he ran the Rock morning and night. He visited the weight room in the afternoons when he didn’t have practice. His times improved, and Enko did seem to work harder to stay ahead.
Even so, Jennifer Royland invited Enko, not Gil, to Homecoming.
Robert elbowed Gil when he heard. “What a shame. Now you have to choose between all those other Uruk girls who are dying to go out with you.”
“Except for Amy,” Gil said. Amy Kahn was Robert’s longtime girlfriend.
Robert shot Gil a warning look. “No, not Amy.”
Gil gave him a grin. But Jennifer’s choice hurt all the same.
Early one Saturday, Gil stretched in the driveway. A light frost covered the lawn. He wore a pair of gym shorts, a dirty sweatshirt and his shoes. Dawn hadn’t quite broken—the sky only hinted at morning. He planned to reach the top of the Rock just as the sun crested the horizon.
He felt loose and limber. The frozen air burned slightly down his throat, but it didn’t slow him. He spooked a pair of partridges in one of the clearings near the Creek, and passed a coyote that scooted under some brush, a rabbit hanging from its jaws. Sure-footed, Gil ran to the top of the hill, breathing easy, feeling great, ready to embrace the sun.
He stopped cold when he noticed a figure standing by the war memorial. Enko Labette.
“What are you doing here?” Gil demanded.
Enko looked as surprised at seeing Gil as Gil was at seeing him.
“Wanted to see the sun rise,” Enko said.
What kind of an answer was that? This was Gil’s sunrise. Others might have been up here with him on occasion—some he’d invited, some he hadn’t. But Enko? Beast Boy? Did Gil have to share this one private moment of glory with him, too?
“Get out of here.”
“Why?” Enko asked.
Gil sputtered. He couldn’t explain. “Because I say so!”
Enko didn’t move. He blinked. “Listen—”
“No, you listen. I’m here every day. It’s something I do for myself, by myself.”
Enko stretched his hands out. “It’s a park.”
Gil boiled. Why didn’t this kid take the hint and go? Instead, Enko gave Gil a look of pity—as if he thought Gil’s anger was childish.
Gil saw red. He clenched his fists. Enko raised a hand. Later, Gil would admit that it had been a defensive gesture, but at that moment, he viewed it as all the provocation he needed. He threw everything he had into a punch he aimed for Enko’s jaw.
Enko ducked sideways, deflected Gil’s arm and spun him around. He crouched slightly, his body taut, his arms bent to his sides, his hands open, ready for whatever Gil planned next. Infuriated, Gil lowered his shoulder and tackled Enko hard, knocking him down to the gravel-specked grass. He wanted to get on top and land the missed punch, but Enko flipped him over. Soon Gil was using every wrestling move he had ever learned.
Enko fought tough, attempting to pin Gil forward and back, although he never threw a punch. Gil managed to slip through the holds, but he couldn’t get a grip on Enko. He pushed Enko over, only to be flipped back. His legs were scratched and bruised, his arms scraped where the sleeves had ridden up. Gil knew Enko was receiving the same, but neither boy let up.
Somewhere, at the back of Gil’s mind, he heard the crunch of wheels on gravel. But it wasn’t until the siren blasted that the boys jumped apart, panting. A police car stood just twenty feet away, the officer stepping out the driver’s side. Gil and Enko scrambled to their feet.
“What’s going on?” the officer said.
She was short, at least a head shorter than Gil. But she looked weathered and tough. Gil glanced at Enko, who dusted himself off with deliberate movements.
“Sorry, Officer,” Enko said between breaths. “We were practicing.”
She lowered her chin, frowning in disbelief.
“Wrestling,” Enko said. “It’s for … tone.”
“Up on the Rock?”
Gil could see her eyeing the scrapes and bruises. He felt a tiny trickle behind his ear—blood, he figured. He followed Enko’s lead.
“We’re on the cross-country team,” he said. “We run here every morning.”
The officer must have taken note of the running shorts, shoes and dirty sweatshirts.
“You might want to pick softer ground,” she said.
Enko grinned—a disarming smile, Gil realized as the officer’s face softened.
“We’ll remember that,” Enko said.
“Is it okay if we finish up?” Gil asked.
The officer nodded.
The boys waved as they jogged down a side path. They ran several switchbacks to a bend hidden by boulders and bushes, and Gil stopped. Enko stopped, too.
Gil turned to Enko, Beast Boy, ready to tell him to stay off his turf from now on. He clenched his fists and stared him down. Or at least, that’s what he had planned to do.
“You’re one impressive athlete,” Enko said.
Gil hadn’t expected that. He opened and shut his mouth once, twice, and stared. Seconds ticked away to a minute. Enko’s deep-set brown-verging-on-black eyes revealed only calm and patience.
“You’re not bad yourself,” Gil finally said.
He turned. They jogged down silently, together.
Gil would never be able to explain what had happened. It was as if someone had removed a pair of smoked glasses and he could see clearly for the first time.
Enko had never been his enemy. Though he was dark and hairy while Gil was golden and smooth, Enko was also smart, charming, strong, with an edge that Gil liked. From the beginning, he had been game for whatever Gil suggested. He had laughed at himself. He had pushed Gil to improve his performance while acknowledging his strengths. And he had pulled Gil out of trouble not once but twice—with Coach and with the police officer.
When they ran down that morning, Gil knew that he respected Enko. Perhaps he should get to know him.
After that, they began training together. Enko joined Gil and Robert for lunch. Gil’s history teacher asked him if he could give Enko some extra help. “He’s a little rusty on American history.” And so they began studying together. But more than anything else, they ran. Every morning. Rain or shine. Up to the top of the Rock.
They took State Championships. They were set to beat other states in
Regionals.
Robert began to feel left out. “What’s with you and Beast Boy? Lovers or something?”
Gil smiled. “We kissed and made up.”
Robert laughed, though Gil thought he heard uneasiness in the laughter.
Homecoming rolled around, and Robert suggested that he and Amy split the cost of a limo with Gil and his date. “If we find a third couple, it won’t be that much,” he added.
“How about Enko?” Gil said.
Robert’s eyes narrowed.
Gil gave him a sly smile. “And Jennifer.”
Robert shook his head in mock disapproval. “She already made her choice.”
“Maybe. But Enko’s parents will be out of town that weekend, and he’s invited us over after the dance.”
“You’re a dog, Gil.”
Gil grinned, but he had lied to Robert. Gil had no particular interest in Jennifer. She had been a fun date last year, and she made any boy shine. He had invited Lynette Baker to the dance this year, an old friend who was smart and pretty and with whom he knew he’d have fun. Having Enko along simply felt right. Gil couldn’t think of a third couple he’d rather spend the evening with.
The night of the dance was electric. Although Uruk lost the football game to a neighboring town, the cross-country team had clinched the Eastern Division earlier that afternoon—and Gil broke a school record. Everyone was in a celebratory mood.
The music blasted and the emcee called for the homecoming king and queen. “A round of applause, please, as they start us off for the evening.”
The king, the football team’s quarterback, led the queen, one of the school’s best swimmers, to the center of the dance floor.
Robert leaned over to Gil. “You should’ve been king.”
Gil laughed. “Next year.”
Enko furrowed a brow. “Why not this year?”
“It’s a school tradition,” Jennifer explained. “The king and queen are always seniors.”
Enko’s crooked smile told everyone at the table what he thought about that tradition.
After the royal couple had circled the floor a few times, the emcee announced, “Let’s all join them now.”
Couples from across the room began flocking around them. Gil’s table rose, too. Enko reached out a hand to Jennifer. “Would you care to dance?”
Gil Marsh Page 1