Ben tried to get off easy. “You know, divorce. It happens.”
But Oliver wasn’t buying it. “Usually when people get divorced, the kids go back and forth, or they live with their mother. I never heard of anybody just living with their father.”
“Well, I guess I’m different.” His voice sounded tight in his throat.
Oliver wouldn’t let it go. “But, you could go live with your mother if you wanted to, right?”
There was a long pause before Ben said, “No, Oliver, I can’t. My mother moved to California so she could be as far away as possible from her crappy husband.” He hesitated for a minute and then added, “And her crappy kid.”
Izzy was fully awake now.
“What do you mean?” Oliver pressed.
Ben grunted, and the car picked up speed. “I mean, she left because of me. She couldn’t stand being around me anymore.” His voice was getting louder and louder. “She said my dad and I were as boring as two weeks of steady rain, and she was sick and tired of being a wife and mother. She moved to the other side of the country to get away from us. I chased her away, Oliver. It was my fault she left, so no, I can’t go live with her.”
Izzy sat up, her mouth gaping. “She said that to you?” Izzy had never heard of a parent saying such an awful thing. Sure, her father ignored her, but he wasn’t mean to her.
“She said it to my dad, but I heard her,” Ben said. “The whole neighborhood heard her.”
Suddenly the trees seemed to be racing past the car. Izzy sneaked a look at the speedometer. “Um, Ben, I think you should slow down.”
He looked where she was looking. “Sorry. I didn’t realize…” The car slowed to the speed limit.
Oliver’s voice from the back seat was quiet, but Izzy could hear anger rising into it. “That’s not what you told me before.”
“What do you mean? I didn’t tell you anything before.”
“Yes, you did. You told me it wasn’t my fault what happened to my mother. You said a kid can’t make an adult do something like that. But now you said it’s your fault your mother moved away. So, that’s the same thing!”
Ben didn’t answer for a minute. Izzy kept her eyes fixed on him, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down.
“It’s not the same thing at all,” he said finally. “Your mother had an actual illness—mine was just sick of me.”
“It is the same,” Oliver insisted, his face blotchy with anger. “My mother wanted to get away from Dad and me just like your mom did. She just did it a different way. If it was your fault, then it was my fault too.”
For a second the car wobbled in and out of its lane. Ben put on the turn signal and looked for a place to pull over. “Oliver,” he said, “if your mom had only wanted to get away from you, she would have moved, like mine did. It must have been worse than that for her. She wanted to get away…from herself.”
“Stop lying to me!” Oliver yelled. “Now I wish I didn’t give myself this tattoo!”
“What tattoo?” Izzy yelled.
Ben pulled the car over and turned it off. He and Izzy unbuckled their seat belts and turned around to see Oliver peel off his sweatshirt. As he threw it aside, they saw on his arm a smeary red drawing of a bird, its big wings spread all over his small bicep.
“I drew it this morning before you guys woke up,” he said. “It was supposed to be a phoenix, like Ben’s. Uncle Steve said it means you can start over and have a new life, but that’s not true. You only get one life, and if you screw it up, you don’t get another chance.” He flopped over on his side, his scribbled-on arm across his face.
Izzy didn’t know what to say. “Is that marker? Where’d you get a red marker?”
“I took it from Ellis’s office,” he mumbled. “Because I’m a crappy kid too.”
“You are not. Ben, tell him!”
Ben had been running his hand through his hair, and it was standing up funny now. “God, Oliver, you’re not a bad kid for taking a stupid marker. Ellis probably would have given it to you anyway. Don’t be a bonehead.”
“You’re a bonehead,” Oliver spat back.
“Okay, I’m a bonehead too. But listen, you’re right about the phoenix. The reason I got that tattoo was so I’d be reminded that I could start over, that my life could get better.”
“You’re a bonehead phoenix,” Oliver mumbled.
“Oliver, I’m trying to start over, but it’s hard. I don’t even know who I want to be! And maybe you have to start over now too, but that doesn’t mean we’re alike in every way.” Ben reached between the seats and put his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “I’m absolutely sure it wasn’t your fault your mother killed herself.”
Izzy and Oliver both flinched. Nobody ever said it out loud like that, and the words hung in the air like skywriting.
And then Izzy saw what the actual truth just might be. “Maybe you are alike,” she said. “I mean, I don’t think it’s your fault either, Ben.” His head bobbed back, and he looked at her sideways, as if he weren’t sure he wanted to hear her opinion.
But Izzy was pretty sure she was right about this. “It’s not Oliver’s fault his mother…killed herself. And I doubt that it’s your fault your mother moved to California. I mean, I don’t know why she left, but Ben, how could you be boring? Maybe being a mother was boring, and okay, your dad’s kind of boring, but not you. Parents do what they want, not what we make them do. They’re the grown-ups.”
Ben looked at her with narrowed eyes, and Izzy couldn’t tell what was going on behind them. After a second he said, “So, you think my dad’s boring?”
She shrugged. “He can’t help it. He’s a dentist.”
A burst of laughter escaped Ben’s throat. “You’re something, Izzy. You really are.”
It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Izzy felt good about it anyway. Besides which, making Ben Gustino laugh felt like a superpower.
Ben glanced back at Oliver. “We’re almost there, dude. Let’s just finish the trip, okay? We’ll talk about this later. In fact, once we find your dad and get back home, we can talk about it as much as you want for as long as you want.”
Oliver didn’t respond. He was sitting up now, spitting on his “tattoo” and rubbing at it with the palm of his hand until it was a rusty-looking mess. Ben started up the car and got back on the road. Nobody said a word for half an hour, until Ben pointed out the window and said, “That’s it. Lake Chautauqua.”
“We’re here!” Izzy shouted, even though the blue water was barely visible in the distance.
“How do we get close to it?” Oliver was obviously trying to keep the excitement out of his voice, but Izzy could hear it pushing through.
She shuffled through Ben’s maps. “It looks like this road eventually runs right up next to it.”
The three of them stared silently at Lake Chautauqua for several minutes until Oliver said what they were probably all thinking. “It’s a big lake.”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “Do you remember where the trailer is? When were you here last?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a year ago. Maybe two.” His voice was quiet and a little squeaky. “My mom was with us that time.”
Izzy turned around in her seat. “She was?”
Oliver nodded. “She used to come here with Dad a lot before I was born. He’d write songs while she walked in the woods.”
“By herself?”
“Yeah. Sometimes she saw bears, but she wasn’t afraid of them. She thought they were beautiful.”
“I wish—” Izzy began, and then stopped. Should she say that? Would it hurt Oliver or make him feel better? It was hard to know, but sometimes you had to say what you meant. “I wish I’d spent more time getting to know your mom. She was always so quiet when you came to visit. I should have talked to her more.”
Oliver didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look any sadder than usual. Or maybe that wasn’t possible.
“There’s a tourist information booth,” Ben said. “Let’s st
op and see if we can get a better map.”
The booth was closed, but there was a map posted in a glass case on an outside wall. On the map, a dozen or more small towns lined both sides of the lake.
“Do any of these places sound familiar?” Ben asked Oliver. “Greenhurst? Belleview? Sherman’s Bay?”
Oliver shook his head and kept studying the map as his eyes welled up. His hands were balled into fists. “I didn’t think it would be so big,” he said.
Izzy felt frustration building in her chest. What had made them believe they were going to be able to find a tiny old trailer hidden on an enormous lake? “Oliver, think,” she said. “You must remember something!”
Ben gave her a grim look, and she managed to clamp her mouth shut. Oliver was doing the best he could.
“You said the trailer was in a wooded area. Was it right on the lake?” Ben asked.
Oliver wiped away an escaped tear. “Not right on it, but not too far. You could walk to the lake.” Suddenly his eyes widened. “What does that say, that town up at the top?”
“This one? Dewittville.”
“That might be it. Yeah, we got groceries there. I remember that name!” There was a light in Oliver’s eyes.
“Okay, back in the car,” Ben said. He checked the route on his phone and announced, “We’re twenty minutes away.”
Twenty minutes that seemed like hours. Oliver sat forward, clutching the back of Izzy’s seat and peering determinedly out the window. She could hardly bear the wait herself. They were so close to finding Uncle Henderson. If he was here. If he hadn’t…done something awful. If I feel this sick to my stomach, she thought, what does Oliver feel like?
The sun was just starting to sink in the sky when Oliver shouted, “There! Thumb Road! I remember the name because it was so weird! That’s it!”
Ben slowed the car. “Should I turn here?”
“Yes! Yes!” Oliver bounced on the seat as Ben turned the corner. “It’s not far now. You turn off on a dirt road that you almost can’t see. It goes down a little hill into the trees. Right there!”
Ben had passed the road, but he turned the car around and went back. “Here? This doesn’t even look drivable.”
“I know! That’s why nobody ever finds him! But we did. We found him!” Oliver pasted himself to the window, the better to get the first glimpse of his father.
As the Malibu bumped along the rutted road, Izzy hoped Oliver was right. After all they’d been through the past two days, it would be terrible if Uncle Henderson weren’t here.
“How far?” Ben asked. Izzy could tell he was excited too. His eyebrows had lifted up almost into his hair, and he drummed his hands on the steering wheel.
“It should be right…there!” Oliver said.
And sure enough, a rusty hulk of a trailer was parked under a canopy of golden leaves, and sitting out front on a plastic patio chair was Henderson Hook, holding his guitar against his chest like a shield.
The car hadn’t come to a full stop before Oliver bolted out. “Dad!” he screamed. “Dad!”
Izzy watched as Uncle Henderson looked up from his music, his eyes cloudy and far away. He didn’t have time to put down the guitar before Oliver leaped on him, knocking it sideways so it hung off his shoulder. Oliver threw his arms around his father, and finally Uncle Henderson hugged him back. Izzy felt proud of Oliver, though she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he hadn’t given up. He’d known where his father would be, and he’d led them right to him.
But on the outskirts of her happiness, Izzy could feel the sharp edges of anger. She remembered the scream that had risen from her cousin’s chest the night before, his howl of fear and loneliness. This search had almost been too much for him, and there was a part of Izzy that felt like cracking her uncle’s precious guitar in half and throwing it in the lake. And maybe even pushing him in after it.
“We found you!” Oliver said, clinging to his father like a vine to a tree.
“I guess you did,” Uncle Henderson said. Izzy was glad to hear her uncle speak, even though his voice sounded as if it had been pulled back into his body from far away. He looked over at Ben and Izzy standing by the car as if he couldn’t quite place them.
“Why did you leave without telling me?” Oliver was on his knees on Uncle Henderson’s lap, his arms still around his father’s neck. He sat back and looked him right in the eyes. “I was scared, Dad. I thought you weren’t coming back!”
“Don’t I always come back?” Uncle Henderson said. It sounded to Izzy as if he were asking himself the question.
“But it’s different now.” Oliver shook his head, struggling to explain the problem. “Dad, you can’t do this anymore!”
Uncle Henderson smiled his faraway smile and lifted Oliver off his lap. “I wasn’t expecting company today,” he said. “I started a new song this morning, and I’m just figuring out the melody line.” He began to arrange the guitar in front of him again, in the slow, sleepy way he’d done everything the past couple of months.
In three long strides Ben was on top of Uncle Henderson. His jaws pulsed with anger as he grabbed the guitar and pulled it away from him. “What the hell is wrong with you, man?” he yelled in Uncle Henderson’s face. “You’ve got a kid to take care of, a kid who doesn’t have a mother anymore. You can’t just think about yourself! You can’t just walk off and disappear! You scared the crap out of him. He thought you were dead!”
Izzy was shocked to see her uncle’s face slowly crumble. “Maybe I am dead,” he said. “I’m the living dead.”
And then Oliver was suddenly angry too. “No, you’re not! You’re not dead!” His small fists pummeled his father’s arm and shoulder and back until finally Uncle Henderson got up out of the chair and held Oliver’s arms to stop the punching.
“I’m sorry, Oliver,” he said. “I know I’m a lousy father. That’s why I left you with Aunt Maggie. She’s stronger than I am. She can take care of you.”
“I don’t want her to take care of me,” Oliver yelled. “I want you to!”
Izzy walked closer. “It’s your job, Uncle Hen. Oliver needs you.”
Uncle Henderson shook his head. “He doesn’t need me. You’ve been a good friend to him, Izzy. You and the boy here. I think it’s better for Oliver if I’m not around so much—”
“No, it’s not!” Izzy felt like slapping him. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, Uncle Hen.”
Oliver wrapped himself around his father’s leg as tears puddled in the hollows beneath Uncle Henderson’s eyes.
“You don’t understand,” Uncle Henderson said. “I can’t do it without her. I can’t—”
“Of course you can do it!” Ben said. He grabbed Uncle Henderson’s upper arm in a tight grip. “You’re the adult. You’re the father. You have to do it. Just do it, dude.”
A spark seemed to light behind Uncle Henderson’s eyes, and suddenly his furious face was inches away from Ben’s. He roared, “I can’t! You’re a kid—you don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not strong enough! I cannot do it!” He kicked the lawn chair aside and strode off toward the woods, walking fast, as if he were actually headed somewhere.
But Oliver was not about to watch his father disappear again. “No,” he screamed, tears beginning to fall. “Don’t leave me again, Daddy! Don’t leave me!”
Uncle Henderson took another step or two, then stopped and turned around. For a minute he locked eyes with his son, and both were motionless. Then, slowly, he held out his hand. Oliver ran to him and grabbed it, and the two of them walked into the darkening woods together.
Izzy turned on Ben’s phone and made the first call. “Mom? It’s me. We found Uncle Hen.”
“Izzy! My God, where are you? I drove all over the state of…where are you?”
Izzy sighed. She was going to pay for this for a long time. “I’m sorry, Mom. We’re in New York at Lake Chautauqua. Where are you?”
“I’m home. I came back to get Michael. Why are you at s
ome lake? Is Oliver with you? And Ben? What is going on?”
Izzy explained that Ben had driven the “borrowed” car carefully on the back roads, that Oliver knew just where to find his father, and that Uncle Hen had gone to his hidden trailer to write music. She didn’t tell her mother about car trouble or ground hornets or nightmares. She didn’t tell her about late-night haircuts, or breakfast with Ellis, or phoenix tattoos. She didn’t tell her that Uncle Henderson and Oliver had walked off into the woods together. There were so many stories that she would probably tell her mother eventually, but for now she wanted to keep some things just among the three of them.
“Ben bought me socks and sneakers at a Goodwill for seven dollars,” she said. She would tell her mother that much, even though her mother was not likely to understand what a great thing it was to have shoes, finally, that fit, and to have them because Ben hurt when she hurt.
“Oh, Izzy, sometimes you make me so mad,” her mother said. “I can’t believe the three of you drove all the way across New York State! What if you’d been pulled over by the police? What if Henderson hadn’t been there? And you hitchhiked! When I think of what might have happened to you, it makes me weak in the knees. You can never scare me like this again, do you understand? You’re all I’ve got, Izzy!”
“No, I’m not. What about Dr. Gustino? And Uncle Hen? And Oliver?”
“It’s not the same.” Her mother’s voice softened. “You’re my child, Izzy. You’re more important to me than anyone else.”
Which Izzy was glad to hear, though she knew her mother would still punish her even if she was more important than anyone else. “I’m sorry, Mom. I really am. But we didn’t know what else to do. Oliver was so scared—he needed to find his dad. And you weren’t doing anything about it, so Ben and I did.”
“Izzy, you and Ben are not grown-ups. It’s not your place to take care of Oliver. I know you meant well, but—”
“Just because you’re a grown-up doesn’t mean you’re always right.” It was kind of a mean thing to say, but it was the truth.
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