I have never felt this much pain. I want to run so hard I can’t feel anything anymore. And I’m running so fast, so determinedly, that I almost don’t see him.
He is sitting under the pear tree we used to climb when we were kids. His dirty-blond hair is brown from soot, he’s skinny as a rail, and his skin is so tan he could be a different person.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I’m almost scared of him. I’m worried he’s some post-Apocalyptic psycho who’ll eat me as soon as he catches me. But then I look into his kind, knowing eyes, and I know—this is my friend. He stands up and lets out a whooping cry the minute he sees me.
“Jackie!” he hollers as I’m rounding the bend.
I stop dead in my tracks and look into his eyes for the person I used to know.
“Jackie, it’s me.”
He smiles so wide his teeth could fall out of his mouth.
Tears pool in my eyes. “Bernard! Oh my God, Bernard!” I cry, racing toward him. “I thought you must be dead!” Our bodies fly together in an embrace.
“No, not the last time I checked,” he says, putting his hand up to his neck to take his pulse. I snatch his hand away from his neck and wrap it around me.
We hug harder and fiercer than I’ve ever hugged anyone. Xander must have heard me shrieking from up the street, because he ambles up behind us. But I’m so happy to see Bernard that we stand there like we’re the only people in the world, squeezed together as Xander shifts uncomfortably. We’re both sobbing, huge, happy tears rolling down our cheeks. We only break apart when Xander talks.
“So, this is the best friend I guess, huh?” he asks, his voice full and low.
“Xander,” I say, tears in my eyes. “This is Bernard, one of the greatest people you will ever meet,” I shout, grabbing him and shaking his shoulders with glee. “Bernard, meet one of the other greatest people you will ever meet, Xander,” I say, giving Bernard a wink so he knows there’s something between us.
“God, it’s so nice to meet you,” Bernard says. “I can’t believe you’re here. I kinda gave up a few months ago.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I mean, come on, Jackie. Your mom’s the only thing that kept me alive. She has this old book on living off the land. Without that thing, we both would have starved to death and we weren’t fighting our way west. Your mom wouldn’t give up, though. She knew you would come.”
“SHE’S ALIVE?” I shriek. “Where is she?”
Bernard smiles and takes my hand. He leads us down to the Willamette River, where the sunset has turned the water a dusty pink hue. A series of tents sit under the rain-blocking branches of redwood trees. There’s a fire puffing smoke from the ground. We can see the back of a scrawny figure sitting cross-legged by the blaze, hunched over, poking the fire with a stick she holds in her right hand. The other is held back in a sling. From behind, she looks frail—this new world has not been kind to her. But she’s alive. My heart feels like its going to stop, it’s beating so hard.
Bernard and Xander stay back to give me space. I walk closer to the figure quietly, as if on tiptoe.
“Mom?” I say, my voice cracking.
The second she hears my voice she sits up straight, her back stiff as a board. I notice her hair is all silver-gray now, held in a long braid that runs down her spine. She drops the stick and whirls around. When she looks into my face, her jaw drops. She bounds up on her feet and over to me.
“Baby? Is that my BABY?” she wails, her eyes wet with tears.
“I’m home, Mom,” I say, stepping into the shelter of her embrace. She is rail-thin, but she smells the same as she always did. Sweet. Like Mom.
“Oh, I can’t believe you’re finally here! I knew you would make it, Jackie. I knew you would.”
We hug each other tight for what feels like an hour—so tight I can barely breathe, but I don’t mind. When we break apart, Xander and Bernard are double-teaming the cinders to make a roaring bonfire, throwing sparks into the night.
“Do you want to introduce me to your friend?” Mom says, reaching down to pet Droops and tilting her head toward Xander.
He comes over, smiling.
“Mom, this is my, uh, boyfriend,” I say, sheepishly.
She lets out a big belly laugh.
Xander looks nervous when I drop the B-word. He extends his hand. “So nice to meet you. I’ve been hearing about you for months.”
“Oh, give me a hug, Xander,” Mom says, pulling him in. Under her frail arms, he looks even bigger than normal, but childlike at the same time. He collapses into her. I think he needed to feel a mother’s comforting touch. I’ve never been happier than I am in this moment, and I’ve never felt so lucky.
We all gather around the fire and watch the moon rise to cast its surreal white glow over our camp. I look up at it, and I swear I can see a smile in its face. Tears course down my cheeks. I grab my mother’s hand, nearly crushing her slender fingers. I look into her eyes and she smiles wide.
I’m home. We may not have a house, but we’re home. Together, we’ll figure out how to live in this new wild.
About the Author
Holly Brasher is a nineteen-year-old who lives and works as a park ranger in the wilderness of California’s redwood forests. She gave up technology after her eight-year-old brother contracted arthritis in his thumbs. This book was written on fallen raffia palm leaves using environmentally friendly ink.
You can reach Holly by smoke signal.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Full Fathom Five Digital is an imprint of Full Fathom Five
The New Wild
Copyright © 2015 by Holly Brasher
All rights reserved.
No part of this text may be used or reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in review, without written permission from the publisher.
For information visit Full Fathom Five Digital, a division of Full Fathom Five LLC, at
www.fullfathomfive.com
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
ISBN 978-1-63370-080-2
First Edition
The New Wild Page 14
