The Wild Children Trilogy Box Set
Page 15
"Say what you will, but I'm staying," Andy said. "I'm not letting Barry gloat over getting away with what he's done. And he's not taking over our camp. No way. Not with all the effort it took us to build it up. I would have thought you'd care more about the camp, Ben."
Ben felt blood rushing to his face, but kept his voice steady as he said, "The camp is just a place. People matter more, Andy. I give up revenge. I choose life."
Edeline walked over to Andy and took his hand in hers. "If you're staying, so am I."
"What about you, Jen?" asked Mac.
She turned away from the mound of black earth and wiped her cheeks. "I'm thinking about what Michael would have wanted," she said, her voice trembling. "He loved the camp, and he'd hate to let Barry win, but he cared more for us, for Marleen and me." She turned to Ben. "He trusted you. Lately, he often said that perhaps he ought to listen to you more. I'm coming with you."
"So am I," said Jimmy, blushing when he realized that everybody's eyes were upon him. "Remember the orphanage? Remember how I begged to stay, because I was afraid of changes and wanted to stick with the familiar, even if it was lousy? But after some time, I was happy to be out. I reckon it will be the same now. We'll make a good life for ourselves. I'm going."
"Thanks, Jimmy," said Ben.
Ron looked torn. He chewed his lip for a long time before he said, "I'm staying with Andy. I don't think we should stay forever, just until we settle the score with ol' Barry. Then I'm all for moving out into the open."
"I'm staying too," said Will. "This camp is our home. I see no reason why we should leave. Things were good for us here until Barry stuck his foot in."
"I'll come with you," Enzo said. "If you'll have me, that is. And I'll understand if you don't want me."
Mac did not look pleased. "I'm warning you, Enzo, if you're trying to play some kind of trick…"
"No tricks," Enzo assured him. "Look at this from my point of view. I don't want to stay in Barry's camp, so I need to find another camp, preferably as far away from Barry as possible. That means I need to get out of the city. But I don't want to do it alone. You're going out. You'll have to work hard to make it. You'll need every extra hand and I'm willing to pitch in with anything that needs to be done."
Ben thought about it, sizing him up. It could be a trap. It would be just like Barry to try something, and Enzo's been his sidekick for a long time. But I don't think Enzo's a good enough actor to tell lies or pretend to be something he's not. And he's right. We'll need every pair of hands for the work we'll have to do setting ourselves up in a new home.
Finally coming to a decision, Ben extended his hand, and Enzo took it. The handshake was awkward, but it seemed to cement something. A new path was formed, and they were going to walk it together.
10
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The reading lamp cast a soft yellow glow, perfect for the peaceful, quiet time at the end of the day when all the tasks and chores were done. The phone was silent. The kitchen table was cleared. Rebecca sat in her rocking chair, a book in her lap, her reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose.
A key turned in the lock, the door opened, and Daniel walked in from his evening jog. He was wearing a pair of old sweatpants with some well-worn sneakers. "Hey there. A pity you didn't join me tonight. It's really nice out there."
"I wanted to go over the guest list and the seating arrangements once again. It's not every day our eldest son gets married, you know."
"You don't sound very excited."
Rebecca read the concern in his eyes. "Oh, I am. Allie is such a nice young lady, and I know she and Jordan are going to be very happy. Now we just have to hope this'll give Kate a nudge in the proper direction, too. I mean, the bride's mother is a lot more involved than the groom's mother, and that's where all the fun is, you know? I can't wait to go with Kate to all the bridal shops, look at dresses, flowers, cakes…"
Daniel chuckled at her dreamy expression. "She has to find someone to marry first."
She dismissed the assertion with a wave of her hand before removing her glasses. "Ah, details. Don't be a spoilsport, Daniel."
He grinned and went into the kitchen, returned with a glass of water, pulled up an old armchair to sit next to his wife. "So, what are you reading?"
Rebecca held up the small book in a faded black cover she had on her lap and watched his eyebrows arch.
"The Bible?" he said. "Are you feeling well, Becky?"
She opened to a chapter she marked. "The Israelites were slaves in Egypt, and the evil Pharaoh spoke a death sentence for every newborn boy. But Jochebed had the courage to hide her son for three months, and when it got too dangerous she had no choice but to send him in a little boat down the Nile and pray. The odds were all against Moses, but he lived and became his people's savior."
A shadow flitting across his face made her see him as she might a stranger. In that moment, she noticed how deep the crow's feet at the corners of her husband's eyes were, the legacy of countless smiles. His hair is graying as much as mine. The clock is ticking for us, like it is for everyone.
"And why do you happen to be reading this?" he asked.
"Three months." She held his eyes for a moment. "Don't you find this funny, Daniel? Three months of terror of being discovered, and then seventeen years of loss and grief. Five years ago, I promised Kate I would let this go to keep myself and our family safe. I promised you I would burn all the photographs and any evidence connecting us with Benjamin. I did neither. I couldn't give up on the few things I have from him. The photos, the little clothes and booties. Sometimes I hold them close to my face, you know, and imagine they still have a bit of that wonderful baby smell clinging to them. But the baby I lost is a man now. Benjamin is seventeen years old, and I know he's alive out there somewhere. He should have been with us. He could have been his brother's best man."
Daniel's expression softened, but his voice was determined. "This isn't fair, Becky. Jordan is getting married. He deserves your attention, your whole heart at this time. If you let it slip away now, you'll regret it later."
She sighed. "You're right. I didn't mean to get distracted like this." She closed the bible and set it on the table. "I still need to read a couple of articles by tomorrow, so that I'm prepared for my interview with Professor Keller."
"About his revolutionary anti-aging medicine?" Daniel appeared as genuinely interested as he was eager to change the subject.
"It's just preliminary research. Sounds more like science fiction than anything else from what I've read so far. But it's intriguing enough for Natalie to decide she wants a five-page article on him. And scheduling the interview was no mean feat, I can tell you that. Professor Keller seems very reluctant to give any of his time to reporters."
"You must have been pretty convincing, then."
"Yes. I guess I was."
She did not dare mention the main and perhaps only reason Professor Keller agreed to meet with her was her acquaintance with Tracy Locke.
Daniel glanced at the watch. "It's getting late. Kate should have been home by now."
As if on cue, the door opened and Kate walked in, laden with packages, wearing her favorite pair of faded jeans and a well-worn jacket with her feet snugly laced into a pair of soft, old moccasins.
"Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad."
"Hi, sweetie," Rebecca said. "Have you been out with Allie?"
"Yes, and the other bridesmaids. We had to finally make a decision about the dresses. The problem is, we all look so different. Allie's sister has red hair, so not everything will suit her. Anyway, here's what we settled on."
She reached into one of the bags and withdrew a long, light green satin dress. It was simply cut, baring one shoulder, with a sash of darker green to tie around the waist.
"It's lovely, dear. It will bring out the color of your eyes."
"We even found matching shoes," said Kate, pulling a pair of low-heeled silky green sl
ippers out of the other bag.
"Things are definitely looking up," Daniel said. "Remember our wedding, Becky? Times were still hard, and when it came to wedding clothes, there wasn't much to choose from."
Rebecca nodded. "I got married in my mother's dress. And Grandma found some pink fabric and whipped up a skirt and blouse to wear for the wedding. Nice fabric was still worth its weight in gold in those days. Factories were just beginning to set themselves up again."
"What about you, Mom? Have you decided what you're going to wear?"
"To wear? Oh, for the wedding. I was thinking about that blue suit I wore at the Urban Observer's anniversary event."
"No way," said Kate, shaking her head. "Mom, this is Jordan's wedding. You aren't putting on something you wore for some newspaper's get-together. Tomorrow afternoon, you and I are going to look for something proper for you to wear. And remember, Jordan and Allie are going with a green-and-gold theme. You choose whether to blend in or stand out."
"Tomorrow's not going to work, honey. I have an interview with Jonathan Keller."
"That ancient scientist?" Kate asked with a sparkle of curiosity that was, nevertheless, muted by exhaustion. She stretched and yawned. "Well, it's been a long day. I'm going to bed. And we'll find a dress for you by the end of the week, Mom," she half-promised, half-warned.
Long after her husband and daughter retired, Rebecca paced the living room in stockinged feet, unable to still her thoughts. It didn't seem possible when I met Daniel, but most of the world has recovered. Lives are back on track. We can buy wedding cakes and fancy shoes again, not just basics like those horrid, heavy-duty clothes in gray and brown and, ugh, that horrible vegetable protein that kept us alive when I was a child. Electricity, water…everything's less expensive now. Jordan's grown into a fine man, a professional, and soon he'll be married and starting a family of his own. And Kate. So smart. So tough. Everything is falling into place. Everything should be wonderful. Just right. If only it weren't for that one single, precious life I held so long ago. The life I can't forget. Could never forget. Always there, hovering on the edge of consciousness until I have to let him in again. She felt her eyes begin to tear and shook them away. Benjamin. She sighed. Okay. Enough. You have to stop dwelling on it. Do something.
Rebecca took out the page of research notes she made on Jonathan R. Keller in preparation for tomorrow's interview. Professor Keller was an old-school scientist. Born almost ninety years ago, he dedicated his whole life to the research of the human genome. In the course of his work he wrote more than twenty books, all of them far too scientific to appeal to the general public. He authored and co-authored nearly two hundred articles. Though greatly valued and esteemed in the academic community, Professor Keller was otherwise little known, until now.
Concern over the upcoming interview put her nerves on edge. It would result in a story Natalie would love, but her restlessness had little to do with it. It was what would not be in the story that troubled her, because she knew the answers to some of the questions she hoped to ask Professor Keller could never be published.
11
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Axes rang through the woods, making animals large and small flee.
"Aren't we scaring our dinner away with all this noise?" asked Tom, wiping his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.
"Focus," Mac said with a patient smile. "We're fishing today, not hunting. And we still have plenty of supplies. Right now we need to concentrate on felling this tree."
Ben looked skeptical. "Are you sure about this, Mac? It seems we've been hacking at this tree for hours."
"We're nearly there. A few more strokes will do the job."
Sure enough, a few minutes of chopping later, the tree made a great creaking noise.
"Step back," warned Mac. "Way back."
The tree fell with a crash, breaking an opening in the leafy canopy of the forest.
"OK, great," said Tom. "Now we just have to figure out how to get the bloody thing to the farmhouse."
"We'll have to call for the others to help us," said Ben, "but we'd better hack off all the branches first."
After days of wandering along the river, the group found an abandoned farmhouse everyone seemed to like. It was surrounded by a shady overgrown orchard and a large patch of a vegetable garden that still, despite many years of neglect, produced some hardy crops. It reminded Ben of the first farmhouse they found, before joining forces with the Grey Eagles, except the walls and roof were in much better shape. Though sturdy, there was one disadvantage. The house was far too small for them all.
"We'll build a big extension out of logs," Mac said. "This door on the side will open into the new hall. It will be like a Viking longhouse."
When he proposed the big project, he expected the amount of work required would meet with some resistance, or at least cause some grumbling, but to his surprise, nobody objected. Most of the men pitched in each day and worked from sunup till sundown, disregarding the blisters on their hands and the sore muscles in their arms, shoulders, and back. The other men went out into the surrounding woods and plains to hunt. The women did their part too, gathering food, cooking, taking care of the children, and turning the old farmhouse into a habitable home.
Elisa took it upon herself to prune the orchard and restore the old vegetable garden, and whenever Ben saw her, she was sweaty and smudged with dirt. To her delight, some of the hardier vegetables thrived and spread in the garden, even without care, and within a week, she made neat patches of onions, carrots, and potatoes.
Enzo worked twice as hard as anyone in the group, but he was still treated with suspicion by almost everyone. Come evening, he would usually huddle alone in the corner, and did not participate much in the general conversation, except to say "we should think about how to make the roof" or "what about a fence? Do you reckon we'll need one, to ward off wild animals?"
Ben laid down his axe. The entire upper part of his body ached. If felling trees was a dangerous business, hacking off the branches was doubtless the most frustrating job he ever had to do. He rubbed the back of his neck as he rolled his head. "I wonder how Andy and the others are doing back in the city."
"Some of us can make a trip to see them as soon as we get settled here," said Mac. "I hope Andy agrees to come after all…but then, with him, you can't know for sure. He's always been stubborn."
Ben's response was cut off by the sound of footsteps. Someone was approaching, and that someone was in a hurry. Ben turned and smiled when he saw it was Elisa, her face flushed with enthusiasm, her eyes shining.
"There's something you've got to see," she said. "Come on!"
"What is it, Elisa?" said Tom. "We're just about done with this tree and…"
"Oh, come on," she insisted, actually stomping her foot with impatience. "Be quick, or you'll miss them! Have you got your binoculars, Ben?"
Puzzled, they followed her out into the plain. Elisa pointed west, where brown, black, and white spots of color moved leisurely upon the background of green and Ben pressed his binoculars to his eyes.
"Goats! I recognize them from the books at school and that trip to the zoo. I've never seen domestic animals out here beyond the boundary. Have you, Mac?"
"Yeah, you see herds roaming the plains now and then. Some animals must have escaped from ruined farms during the War and survived in the wild."
"Well, there's a nice dinner," Tom said, cheered at the thought of eating meat instead of fish tonight
Elisa glared at him. "No! We must not hunt them."
"Don't be squeamish, Elisa. We haven't had any meat for ages. I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of fish and snap-turtles."
"No, don't you see? If we capture them alive, we can domesticate them. We can have milk and make cheese, and perhaps raise some for meat as well. It'd be a lot more reliable than hunting. Could we do that, Mac?"
"We could," Mac said. "If we build a makes
hift pen and circle the herd and get the goats to run into the pen. Perhaps we can. But it'll take time, and if the herd doesn't come back to this area, it won't work."
"We must make sure we don't spook them, then," said Elisa. "I'll go and tell everyone not to go that way."
Eliza borrowed Ben's binoculars and, for the next few days, watched the herd with a fervent hope the others would finish the pen before the animals moved on. Each morning, she hurried to her post atop a large rock in the field next to the farm, worried the goats might have vanished in the night, but the herd seemed content with the grass and shrubs in and around a small patch of young trees. Finally, after days of concentrated effort, and a lot of grumbling on part of the nonbelievers, the wide pen was completed and Mac declared it was time for Operation Goat.
Mac noticed Darren listening as he outlined the plan for the others and suppressed a smile. When he was done answering questions, he waved him over and said, "Come on, son. I reckon you're old enough now to help, too. We need as many people as possible to close in on them."
The seven-year-old's face split in a wide grin. "I can come? Really?"
At his father's nod, he walked out of the door, followed by Jill's whining, "But I want to go too, Mom!"
Gabby and Jen stayed back to take care of the children while everyone else spread in a wide circle, surrounding the small herd. The unsuspecting animals, happy to be in an area with few predators, continued to graze peacefully.
The first part of the plan went as intended. Slowly, they tightened the circle, trapping the goats between them. But when Mac gave the signal to spook the goats and make them race toward the pen, several managed to slip away, and only six were made to rush through the gate, which Elisa hastened to bolt behind them. They stood there, huddled in a group, frightened and calling out nervously.
Mac circled the pen, inspecting the animals from all sides. "It looks like we have a buck and five does here."
Elisa beamed. "That's excellent! We can breed them, you know. I might be wrong, but two of them look pregnant to me."