Jess and the Runaway Grandpa

by Mary Woodbury

  “It must be hard, not knowing where Jess and Ernie are.” Brian was glad he was searching. The nerves jumped in his leg and he pushed it down with his hand. If he felt helpless, how on earth did Jess’s mother and Ruth feel? That thought made his insides feel like he was on a fast-moving elevator going down.

  The headlights of the four-by-four were reflected in puddles that stretched across the road. The sky was a dark bluish-purple with streaks of orange in the West. Tiny bats flitted between silhouetted poplars, birch, and spruce that lined the fence by the United Farmers gas station.

  Somewhere in that dark, cold bush, Jess and Ernie were sitting out the storm. Brian shuddered. He shut his eyes and willed them to be all right.

  Chapter 16 – Jess Faces Trouble

  Jess heard the thunder first, then saw a bolt of lightning crease the sky across the river towards the southwest, probably near Baptiste Lake. She decided to figure out how far away the lightning was. Grandpa Ernie had taught her and Brian how to estimate the distance one time when they’d been out camping in a storm. Sound traveled approximately a kilometer every three seconds, he had said. As the next streak of lightning crossed the sky, Jess began counting, “One thousand and one, thousand and two, thousand and three….” A mighty crash of thunder roared in her ears. The storm was getting close – about one kilometer away. The air was cold. She piled deadfall branches on the fire.

  “I need help,” Ernie cried. He leaned against the gnarled old tree that clung by its roots to the edge of the cliff. His good hand clutched a branch while the other feebly grasped a clump of grass. “Storm coming. Need to go home and check what’s for dinner. Hope we remembered to get something out of the freezer. Don’t like thunder.” He continued muttering as Jess helped him stand.

  “What a nice campsite you have,” he continued “Too bad I have to go home. That corned beef made a good snack, but my wife expects me for dinner, you know. Shouldn’t you be going home too?”

  “Your van went off the road, Ernie. We’re stuck here until someone finds us. Have another cup of tea.”

  “I don’t want a cup of tea. People always offer me tea. What good is tea in a storm, I’d like to know?”

  Another crack of thunder, the sky darkened and the cold wind blew sparks high in the trees.

  “‘The heavens declare the glory of God’s handiwork.’ ” Ernie slid to the ground in front of the lean-to. “Be a good girl, Yvonne, and get me a cup of tea, will you? I sure could use a cup of tea.”

  Jess had to find the hatchet or the bow saw. There was no way she could keep the fire going with twigs and deadfall. She needed more big chunks.

  “Ernie, where did you hide the saw or the hatchet? It must be in the camper. It’s got to be.”

  “Ruth took them out of the camper. She said they were dangerous. Since when are tools dangerous? First thing a human being needs – after learning how to walk, talk, and tell stories – is to learn how to use tools. We are toolmakers, tool users. On the sixth day of creation God made toolmakers. It was a good thing too.”

  Jess threw herself down on a damp tree stump that she was saving to put on the fire when they went to sleep. It would burn most of the night.

  “That’s all I need! Without tools I’ll have to stay up all night tending the fire.”

  “Ruth took the tools, but I found them. I found the bow saw and hid it where she’d never think of it. Trouble is, I don’t remember where. I don’t remember much of anything these days, girl. That’s a real pain. Not remembering things. It gets foggy in my head. Every once in a while ideas pop to the surface of my brain like an old log floating down the river. What is it you’re looking for again?”

  “A bow saw or a hatchet.”

  “Shouldn’t go camping without them.” There was a hint of accusation in Ernie’s tone.

  “I didn’t plan it, did I?” Jess could feel her ears burning.

  “Didn’t you plan this trip, then?” Ernie asked. He was looking at her as if she was a stupid stranger.

  Jess rose and limped up the path in the dark woods towards the debris of the camper. She was losing control, and she knew it. She leaned her head against the side of the cab front. What was she going to do? She banged her fist on the hood.

  “Try on the floor behind the seat,” Ernie hollered. “I built a bracket for the bow saw. It’s beneath the rifle.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Jess screamed, as she tried to wrench open the door. “I only wanted to help. I don’t know what to do, Ernie, and you’ve left me? You didn’t tell me about the bow saw. Why didn’t you say something earlier, eh?”

  Jess crawled into the camper one more time. It moved, throwing her off balance for a moment. The inside reeked of gas and damp upholstery.

  First she saw the rifle. It was in its canvas carrying case. She glanced back at by the fire. She didn’t like having a gun, loaded or not, near her or Ernie. She lifted it out carefully and stowed it under some of the camper wreckage where Ernie couldn’t find it.

  Then she returned to the camper and her search.

  There it was – the old bow saw with its chipped red paint and two teeth missing near the top edge.

  She gazed around until she spotted a skinny dead birch to cut down. She needed to do this. It was better than crying or screaming at Ernie. Felling the tree wasn’t too hard. It gave her a surge of confidence. She started cutting lengths for the fire. Rain spattered her hair and hands as she sawed. Sweat streamed down her forehead and into her eyes and ears, dribbled down her neck. She mopped her brow on her soaking shirt sleeve. She’d been working for ages and only had five pieces cut. When Ernie had done it, it’d looked easy. Tears of frustration mixed with the sweat.

  Oh, how she wished Brian was here. Not that he’d be any better at this, but the company would be good. And sharing work would help. The fire hissed in the rain, mosquitoes dive-bombed, and a few horseflies clung to her shirt, hoping for a healthy nip.

  Ernie struggled up the hill slowly. He glanced over at her, checking to find out if she was still mad at him. Jess sighed. The two of them hauled the wood down near the fire.

  The old man worked beside her, piling logs and chunks of deadfall between two trees. He used his right hand, his left hand dangling uselessly. Maybe it was broken. It must be painful. Ernie grimaced from the effort. His face was flushed as if he had a fever.

  Jess wished she hadn’t screamed at him. Wished she wasn’t so scared for both of them. “Sorry, Ernie.”

  “What have I done so wrong?” His head tilted. He shuddered. “People are so angry these days. That’s why I want to go away, you know, for good. If you weren’t here, I could go away. Go with the river. What is it you kids used to say – go with the flow?”

  Lightning flashed nearby. A crack of thunder sounded overhead. “Quick, Ernie,” Jess shouted. She helped Ernie crawl into the lean-to.

  “Scrunch down, sergeant, you don’t want to be struck by lightning. It strikes the tallest thing handy.” Ernie’s thin body hit a lumpy rock under the sleeping bag and skinny mattress. “Ooph!” he complained.

  “Thanks, lieutenant, you saved my skin.” Jess pulled the soggy covers over both of them. She curled up to keep her elbows and feet away from the downpour.

  “I don’t like the sound of bombs,” Ernie said. “Never have.”

  Jess was going to say it was thunder, but thought better of it. If Ernie remembered something from his days in World War II, it was better than never remembering anything.

  “Darned uncomfortable billet, eh sergeant?”

  “It won’t last long.” Jess crossed her fingers, hoping. The rain pounded on the plastic, the wind howled through the trees. The river moaned as it swelled its banks. Jess peeked out. A blast of thunder shook the ground. The earth pressed hard into her ribs and knees and threatened to cut off her circulation. Her bones ached. Water from the sky filled every crack and crevice between rock and stone, clump of clay or driftwood.

  “Hey, stop with the flood!
Remember the rainbow!” Ernie threw off the blanket and hollered. Jess watched as the sky cleared overhead, the storm passed. Rain still hit the rushing current, bouncing and pinging, but a pale green light shone through the wet leaves on the poplar tree hanging over the river.

  “It worked, Ernie, it worked. The rain’s gone. The thunder’s moved over to Calling Lake, I guess.”

  “Maybe all those years of praying have paid off, sweetheart.” Ernie used his cowboy accent as he fumbled, leaning on Jess’s shoulder as he pulled himself up and returned to his former spot by the tree and plopped on a sodden log. “Next time we better head for the homestead, little lady.”

  Thank goodness the fire had not gone out. Jess shivered in her damp jeans and T-shirt. She draped the wet blankets over one of the tent ropes. Then she crawled closer to the struggling flames.

  The wind had died down and the thunder sounded further and further away. Jess toasted some buns over the spluttering fire for their bedtime snack, slathered margarine on them, and the two of them sat beside the smoke and flames and drank tea. The gentle smell of singed bread and tea circled the campfire. The birds chattered in the branches overhead, chirping their goodnights. She needed to feed Ernie and herself. Tomorrow they’d need more solid food. But what?

  “Did I tell you what happened in school yesterday?” Ernie swirled the tea in his cup. “I came upon a new kid who had left his home room to go to the washroom and got lost trying to find his way back. I had enrolled him, so I knew where he belonged. I helped him. People need to feel as if someone cares for them, you know. Otherwise they shrivel up inside. His sobs reached right into my office. I can hear him sobbing yet, inside my head. But I rescued him. He was sitting in the boys’ bathroom crying his eyes out, sitting on the floor under the window. If I hadn’t come along, I think he might have run away.”

  “A little girl in our kindergarten class got lost last week,” Jess said. “The class had been playing hide and seek, down by the playground equipment. She’d climbed into one of the giant tires and fallen asleep. When she woke up she screamed. It took an hour to calm her down. Our teacher said human beings are terribly worried about being abandoned.” Maybe that was more true than Jess had imagined. Didn’t she feel as if Ernie was abandoning her? Her throat tightened.

  Ernie’s eyes dropped. “I feel like it’s been one long day, little miss.”

  Jess took his tea mug from his right hand, and went down to the river to rinse out the mugs, rinse off the knife, and tidy up. She was still hungry. The sky overhead was dark and full of clouds again. A bunch of coyotes yapped in the distance. Only the birds and Ernie kept her company. What a lonely spot. And yet it was beautiful too. If she shut her eyes she could imagine flat bottom boats, long canoes plying the water heading towards Landis and transferring goods from boats to carts, carts to boats. This had been the route for gold miners, the early traders, pioneer families. Now it was empty as a deserted highway.

  She glanced up the hill to the clearing. The smoke from the fire sifted slowly into the sky. Ernie must be sleeping. She wasn’t alone really. She had Ernie for company. She must try not to lose her temper.

  The inflatable boat had fallen over and was half-filled with water. Jess turned it upside down, propped it against the tree, and tied the rope from the front to one of the branches. She stuck the two life jackets and the paddles underneath. She avoided looking at the river, but she could hear it as it rushed past.

  Her mind kept whirling from one thing to another, like rapids. Food. Boat. River. Rescue. Hill. Walk. Rescue. Ernie. Fire. Rescue. Was there no end to it?

  She shivered in the fading light. As she climbed up to the campsite, clutching thin willows and clumps of grass, gasping for breath, her arms and legs aching with the strain. Tired, she was so tired, and wet, and cold. Tears filled her eyes, her nose ran, her ears hurt. “Someone, please find us. I can’t go on.”

  “Where are you? Bert, are you out there somewhere? Where’s our kip, I’m hungry. Has the whole platoon disappeared?”

  Jess wiped her tears away. “I’m coming, lieutenant.” She handed Ernie another fruit strip. Then she lumbered up the hill and put the survival kit in the camper. At the last moment she pocketed two more granola bars and the sewing kit. She closed the creaky stiff door. She pushed and strained to get two stumps on the fire, curled up under their makeshift tent and went to sleep.

  Chapter 17 – Brian, the Investigator

  Brian jammed his first piece of pizza in his mouth. The sausage nearly burnt his tongue. His father was serving himself a piece. It had been a long afternoon and evening. Now with the sky too dark to search any more they, along with several other search parties, were sitting in the Italian restaurant on Landis’s main street trying to figure out what to do next. Groups of searchers had scoured the wilderness areas around each of the lakes. No one had spotted any sign of Ernie or Jess. The fear of tragedy was etched on every face. Brian ate, but the pizza tasted like cardboard.

  Holly and Mark, from the newspaper office, dropped by and brought them up to date. “Ruth Mather and Jess’s mother are out at Ruth’s brother’s farm. They’re sitting tight until tomorrow morning.” Holly slid into the booth beside Brian.

  “Yeah, we talked to them,” Brian said. Actually, Sonny had talked to Naomi. She’d been crying on the phone. Brian could tell by the way his dad had spoken so soothingly, softly, saying encouraging things about how good Jess was in the bush. Brian had tried to watch the news on TV. They were talking about the search. He had flipped the switch and turned the talking heads off.

  “How’s it going?” Mark asked.

  “It’s too dark to search any more. This young man needs sleep anyway,” Sonny said.

  “Jess and Ernie are old campers. They’ll be all right.”

  “Not if they’re hurt.” Brian wiped a splash of pizza sauce from his chin. “Not with Ernie the way he is. What if a tree fell or lightning struck them?”

  “Boy, are you morbid.” Holly screwed up her face. “I just hope they haven’t gotten separated.”

  “I can’t figure out where they are,” Brian said. “We’ve been to our favourite site. Other groups have checked out the rest. I don’t get it. I should be able to figure out where they’ve gone. I found all sorts of stuff in Ernie’s files. He’s been a lot worse lately. He’s been trying to cover up and Ruth, Jess, and her mom have been trying to protect him. They’ve all been lying a little. Jess didn’t even want to talk to me about him.” He shook his head. “That was stupid. Jess should have told me.”

  “You haven’t been exactly sympathetic, Brian,” Sonny said. “Calling him a gaga geezer got you in trouble with Jess. Most people don’t want to look at the truth about themselves. Or those they love. Most people just want to go along. Let things ride,” Sonny Dille said. “Getting involved is scary. It’s easier to make a joke, like you do.”

  “It’s Jess that’s stupid, going with him, endangering her life. I haven’t been making any jokes about that. Jess is dumb, a dumb girl.” Brian could feel his ears burning, his fists clench. “Did she really think she could be a saviour? Stupid, selfish kid!”

  “Really!” Holly glared at him. “Is that what you think?”

  Brian paused, gripped the edge of the brown Formica table in front of him, willing the touch of the cool table to calm him down. “No, she isn’t – I didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I said it. Jess is smart about lots of stuff … social studies, language arts, science, camping and fishing and…” Brian chew his lip. “getting along with people. Of all ages.”

  “You shouldn’t say she’s a dumb girl then!” Holly exclaimed. “I get so fed up with all the games people play. No one really cares about anyone else. It’s all competition, big business, and greed.”

  “Easy, Holly,” Mark said. “Save it for an editorial in the paper. This kid is worried.”

  “I’m afraid they’ve had an accident…” Brian pushed his plate of pizza away from him.

  “When you
get nervous or scared, you get angry. You want someone to blame,” Holly sighed. “Kids.”

  “Don’t be too hard on him.” Mark punched Brian’s arm. “We’ll find them, okay?”

  Another big group of Landis Search and Rescue volunteers came through the door. Some were soaked to the skin from the wild storm that had passed. Mark’s uncle and other business people were with them. They headed for the small dining room. Mark and Holly excused themselves and followed the crowd. Brian’s dad watched them leave.

  “Nice kids. Holly seems pretty serious.” Sonny wiped tomato from his fingers with the table napkin, refolded it, and put it back on the table.

  Brian had taken all the sugar packets out of the container on the table and was putting them in order, the red sugar inscription facing up. He put them back in the white porcelain dish carefully.

  “Jess wouldn’t take all my jokes seriously, would she, Dad?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I called Ernie gaga because I felt nervous. I wanted people to lighten up. Laugh.”

  “Jess wasn’t laughing.”

  “I’ve got to find them, Dad. I’ve got to explain.”

  “Not tonight though. We’ll go back to our room and check in with Ruth and Naomi once more. See how they’re doing, okay?”

  Brian nodded in agreement. Inside he felt miserable, worse than he could ever remember feeling.

  The two of them threaded their way through the crowded room to the cashier. The older man behind the counter took their money.

  “You with the search people?”

  “We’re friends of the family.”

  “Ernie Mather taught me forty years ago. He was tough but fair, you know. I learned lots, even if he was just a kid. I sure hope you find him.”

  “You should tell those reporters what Ernie was like. They could write a piece for the papers.” Brian’s dad pocketed his change and headed for the door.