by John Kess
“Will you show me how to build a fire?” Molly asked.
“Sure.”
I had her pile small pieces of dry kindling into a tepee shape. I watched her excitement as the flame from her match transferred nicely to the kindling.
“Look at that!” she said, staring at the growing fire while still holding the lit match.
“Molly,” I pointed at her hand, “the match!”
She looked at her hand and saw the flame was right next to her finger. She squealed as she snapped her hand away, dropping the match.
“Are you okay?”
She looked at her finger. “I’m good.”
I smiled at her and we both laughed.
We used Molly’s fire to heat two cans of beef stew.
Molly poked at her stew with her spoon. “How mad were your parents when you got home yesterday?”
“My mom was not happy. We cleared up a few things and she got over it.”
“So you decided to speak to them again?”
“I didn’t have a choice. Now we have an understanding. My price of freedom is lugging the phone around with me.” I set my empty can of stew down. “What about you? Was your mom mad at you for being gone?”
Molly shook her head. “No. My … my mom didn’t even notice I was gone, and Tony was disappointed to see me.” She swallowed hard and looked at the fire. “Drug addicts only care about their next high. They don’t care about anything else.”
The tension in Molly’s face was clear as she fought her emotions. I touched her shoulder. “I care about you.”
Her face brightened. “Thank you.” She gave me a quick hug and said, “You’re the first person who’s hugged me since my father died.”
I opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to say. As her words sunk in, I felt awful. It had been two years since her father died. Two years since she’d had a hug. I felt so bad for Molly. I couldn’t imagine how awful that would be.
* * *
Molly and I wore our face paint as we lay next to each other in our black clothes, looking at the rear of the house we’d walked past hours before. We were on a hill looking down at the house, which had a deck with a sliding-glass door. The backyard was surrounded by tight clumps of trees, allowing us to get quite close without being seen.
The sun had set, and the blue sky was retreating into the distance. I used the spotting scope and Molly used her binoculars to watch a man walking around what appeared to be the kitchen.
“It looks like he just got done eating,” Molly said.
A black-haired girl darted behind him.
“Did you see that?” I asked.
“No. What did you see?”
“In the window behind him. It looked like a girl.”
The man turned to his right and laughed as he appeared to be talking to someone. The man wiped his hands and disappeared.
“It was a girl with black hair,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Molly asked.
“Yes.”
“If it were Hannah, you wouldn’t think he’d let her walk around like that.”
The man reappeared in the window for a moment and then was gone.
A teenage girl appeared at the sliding-glass door with her back to us.
“Is that her?” Molly asked.
I strained to look harder. The girl looked like she was putting on tennis shoes. She stood and opened the door. Both Molly and I got a good look at her face.
“No,” I said. “It’s not her.”
The girl was holding a baseball glove and a softball. She flipped on a light that lit up the backyard. The man followed her out, holding a catcher’s mitt. The two walked to opposite sides of the lit area.
“Are you ready?” the girl asked.
The man crouched and said he was.
She spun her arm around to loosen it up and then, in an underhand motion, she threw the ball to the man.
“Take it easy until you’re warmed up,” he said.
Molly and I looked at each other. We knew we weren’t going to find Hannah here. Even though we were well protected, we were too close to be able to stand up and walk away without being seen or heard. Even crawling away would be risky.
“Let’s wait it out,” Molly whispered. “It’s getting darker. It shouldn’t be long.”
I nodded and quietly loaded our binoculars and spotting scope into our backpack. I put the pack on and heard the snap of the softball hitting the catcher’s mitt.
Molly pointed at the girl. “She’s really good.”
We watched a few more pitches.
“Good pitch,” the man said. “Does your arm still feel okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” the girl said.
Molly looked at me. She held her hand up toward me as if she were miming me to do the same.
I held mine out and our palms touched. She turned my hand over and traced it with her finger. My whole arm tingled.
I watched Molly as she followed each of the lines in my hand with her index finger. I was frozen by her touch, unable to move in fear that if I did, she would stop. I felt the hairs on my arms and neck stand at attention.
“I still see you running from bear cubs,” Molly whispered.
I smiled as the girl increased her pitch speed and another snap echoed through the forest.
A loud ringing noise came from my backpack. It was as if a dozen bells were going off and the sound easily filled the whole area.
Molly looked at me, the whites of her eyes wide within her black-painted face, and we scrambled to our feet. I glanced at the backyard, and both the man and girl were staring into the woods right at us.
“Who’s there?” the man shouted.
Molly grabbed my hand and we took off running.
“Who’s out there?” the man shouted. “Stay off my property. I’m calling the police!”
We ran up the hill and the ringing sound returned. We continued to run as the phone rang a fourth time. We had cleared the other side of the hill and I stopped to take off the backpack.
“Stupid phone,” I said.
I pulled out the satellite phone as it rang for a fifth time. I hit the button to answer it.
“Dylan, can you hear me?” I heard Mom say.
“Yes, Mom.” I stood up and jogged as Molly followed.
“It’s about time you answered,” she said.
“Sorry, this thing is still new to me.”
“Why does it sound like you’re running?”
“I have no idea,” I said as we continued to jog away from the house.
“Are you two okay?”
“Yes, Mom, we’re both fine.”
“What are you doing?”
“We’re hiking back to our camp.”
“At this time of night?”
“We’re almost there.”
She asked about Molly and I told her she was fine. Next she told me to be safe and not to forget about Amy’s birthday party. The only thing I had going for me was that she knew how expensive calls were on the satellite phone, so she said good night.
“After the phone rang,” Molly said, “my heart was racing so fast.”
“You should have seen how big your eyes were.”
Molly and I continued to run for awhile and then slowed to a walk. We shared a laugh and hiked back to our camp.
* * *
Molly and I awoke early the next day. By late morning the heat was so bad we had to take frequent breaks to rest in the shade. We used our water filter to refill our bottles every time we found a stream. Weaving in and out of trees on steep hills and rocky ground made it a massive effort to keep moving forward. By midafternoon the air was so hot and humid, breathing became difficult.
When Molly and I reached the river, we dropped our packs and stripped down to swimsuits without saying a word. The cold water against my skin was beyond refreshing. The shallow water was flowing faster than the last time we’d swam, but it was still deep enough for Molly to show me how to do the dead man’s floa
t.
We waded upstream where the river narrowed and water flowed over rocks, creating a tiny waterfall. We sat down and let the water flow over our shoulders.
“I love this,” Molly said. “I wish I could live in the water.”
“Molly, the River Mermaid.”
She laughed.
“What do you think Wiz is doing right now?” Molly asked.
“He’s either reading a computer magazine or having an argument with Rosella.”
Molly laughed. “Is he your best friend?”
“Yeah.”
Molly rested her head back on the rocks.
“Do you have a best friend?” I asked.
Molly looked at me. She opened her mouth to talk, then stopped herself.
“I mean, one back in Boston?” I asked.
The frown on her face made me wish I’d never asked.
Molly looked at the shoreline.
I was left in silence, wondering if she was going to say anything. I tried to come up with something to say, but then she said, “Dylan, do you remember how Tony called me an arsonist?”
I nodded.
Her head rolled forward and her shoulders dropped as she looked down at the water flowing past us.
“If you want to talk about it,” I said, “that’s fine. You don’t have to explain anything to me if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want you to think I—it’s just … I want you to know. I want you to hear it from me.”
“Okay.”
Molly sat up. “I told you my dad died two years ago. He was on his way home one night when he was hit by a drunk driver who’d run a red light.
The drunk driver was charged with vehicular manslaughter. Since it was the man’s first offense, they allowed him to plead guilty to a lesser charge. I was in the courtroom when the man told the judge he was sorry and he’d never drink again. The judge gave him a fine, four months of house arrest, and some community service.
“About six months later I was biking home from school when I saw the man’s truck parked outside a local sports bar. He owned one of those hideous jacked-up trucks. It was the same truck that killed my dad. I saw him up on a balcony, drinking and laughing with his buddies.
“I snapped. I knew he lived a few miles from us. I biked to a local gas station and bought a gas can and filled it up. I went to his house, dumped the gas into the mail slot on his front door, and lit his house on fire. I rode away feeling justice had finally been served.
“When I got home I could see the black smoke from the fire. I thought about what my dad would think. I heard sirens and thought about the firemen and the danger I had put them in. I got really scared. The fire department found the gas can I’d left on the man’s front lawn with the price tag still on it. The gas station had footage of me buying it and filling it up.”
She picked up a stone from the river bottom and stared at it. “It wasn’t the smartest crime ever committed.
“I was arrested. I pled guilty and was sentenced to twelve months in juvenile detention. We were hit with a $50,000 fine, which cleaned out what was left of my dad’s life insurance policy. We were ordered to pay to fix the man’s house, which basically meant we lost our house and any savings.
“After my dad died, my mom was in rough shape. They’d loved each other very much and, without my dad, my mom was lost. When I was sentenced, I didn’t hear from her for four months. I sat in the juvenile detention center wondering if she’d just left and I’d never see her again. Those were the hardest four months of my life. That was when I began writing those letters to my dad. I know now that that is when she turned to drugs.
“When my mom finally came to see me, she cried her eyes out, apologizing for not contacting me, but I could tell she was still furious. After my year was up and I got out, everything had changed. My mom was already dating Tony. Dating really isn’t the right word. She was completely dependent on him. She had no money and no job and Tony took her in and … the mom I knew was gone. I don’t know who she is anymore. She’s an addict, and it’s my fault.”
Molly threw the stone.
“When my dad died, I stopped spending time around friends. After the fire, I didn’t have any friends left.”
We sat in silence for a moment, and then Molly said, “I really screwed up my life.” She dropped her head into her hands.
“I don’t care about your past,” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. “I care about who you are. You’re an amazing person who I love being around. I’ve only known you for such a short time, but I know we’re going to be good friends.”
“Thank you.” Molly wiped her eyes and gave me a hug.
Chapter 7
Molly and I spent the rest of the evening searching and returned to camp at sundown. We were beyond tired as we ate two MREs that tasted like burnt oatmeal, then climbed into the tent to get ready for sleep.
Even though it was cooler than before, it was still warm enough that Molly and I lay on top of our sleeping bags. Crickets and cicadas buzzed away, making the forest seem alive. Molly wore shorts and a tank top as she lay on her stomach, writing her dad another letter. I was shirtless in shorts as I fiddled with the GPS unit.
Molly and I jumped when the satellite phone rang in the same obnoxious tone.
“I have to do something about that ring,” I said. “Hello.”
“Dylan,” Dad said, “how is the search going?”
“It’s been hot, but we’ve covered a lot of ground.”
“How is Molly doing?”
“She’s good. How are Mom and Amy holding up?”
“Your mother is at Aunt Jackie’s tonight. She’s still mad at me for letting you search for Hannah. Amy is the same. She continues to struggle with all this. It’d be a good idea if you’re home for her birthday.”
“It’s in three days. I know. I’ll be there.”
“Any problems?”
“Nope, just your satellite phone has the most obnoxious ring ever.”
He laughed. “How is your food holding up?”
“We’re good on food,” I looked at Molly and then added, “unless the bears come and take it.”
Molly shot me a look that showed she didn’t think I was funny.
“Is your Internet tracking working?” I asked.
“Yes, it is. I’m looking at your location right now. We also got called to a residence yesterday about two miles from your camp. A dad and his daughter were outside when they heard someone trespassing on their property run off while a phone was ringing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Did they describe the ringing phone as loud and obnoxious?”
“I didn’t take the call. The report didn’t use the word obnoxious.”
“Then it wasn’t us. Trust me. They would have described it as loud and obnoxious.”
“Hmmm …” he said. I wondered if I was about to get a lecture. “All right, I’ll let you go. I love you. Have a good night.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Molly continued writing in her notebook. I powered down the GPS and put the phone away. Then I pulled out the picture of Hannah and me. It had been taken in Washington, D.C., on a family vacation after we climbed to the top of the Washington Monument.
“I’m finished,” Molly said. “Do you want to hear what I wrote?”
“Sure.”
“Here you go.” She held the note near the flashlight. “Hey Dad, Dylan and I are on day two of our second expedition searching for Hannah. Today was really hot. We swam again and I showed Dylan the dead man’s float. Now I don’t have to worry about him drowning. He’s getting the hang of swimming and he’s my best student ever. Okay, he’s my only student, but he’s still my best. I told Dylan about what I did to earn my stay at the juvenile detention center. I’m nervous he might be gone in the morning after he makes a run for it. I wouldn’t blame him, especially after I introduced him to the biggest loser in the state of New Hampshire.” Molly looked at me and
smiled. “I’ll write you again soon! I love you, Dad! Molly.”
I thanked her for reading it.
She put her pencil and her notebook away and rolled on her side facing me. “Do you ever wonder what your life will be like when you leave home?”
I thought about it and said, “Maybe a little.”
“I think about it a lot.”
“What do you think it’ll be like?” I asked.
“It’ll be great,” Molly said. “I’ll live in my own house and have friends over all the time. I’ll have pets, maybe a cat or at least an aquarium full of tropical fish. Best of all, Tony won’t live there.”
“I just can’t wait until I can drive,” I said. “Then I could come over and hang out at your house.”
“You can come over anytime you want.” Molly rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling of our tent.
I realized how good I had it compared to Molly. The reason I hadn’t thought much about life after living in my parents’ house was because I really liked living with my family. Hannah and I didn’t always get along, but I couldn’t ask for a better older sister. I remembered her sitting on the couch showing me her tattoo, and I felt another pang of guilt for not waking up while someone forced her out of her bed at gunpoint.
I wished I could introduce Molly to Hannah. I thought about Molly and her mom, and what it must have been like to go to the detention center. I couldn’t imagine four months of silence from my mom. I looked at Molly and remembered what she said while we sat in the river, about how it was her fault her mom was an addict.
“I have an idea.” I turned to face her, sitting cross-legged.
“What is it?”
“I want to make a deal with you,” I said. “You should know this deal is huge.”
“What is it?” Molly sat up and faced me.
“I’ve never done anything like this before. This is really big for both of us.”
“Tell me.”
“A deal like this between friends is a once-a-decade kind of thing.”
She pushed me lightly on the shoulder. “Would you tell me already?”
“Here we go. I told you I blame myself for allowing Hannah to be taken. You told me you blame yourself for what has happened to your mom. Here’s my deal. I will agree to stop blaming myself for Hannah being taken if you agree to stop blaming yourself for what has happened to your mom.”