Untraceable

by Johannes, S. R.

  “I did better than that.” I stare at him with a look that says, Come on, think about it.

  His silly grin fades, and he throws his head back and looks at the sun. “Ah man! Come on, G.” He leans in closer and lowers his voice. “Seriously, did you steal it?”

  “Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?”

  Wyn ignores my joke and smacks his forehead. “You said you were going to look at it, not steal it. Captain’s gonna kill me if he finds out I helped you break into his office. Probably dock my pay too. I need that job.”

  I feel bad for a second. Not only does Wyn work for Carl doing odd jobs, but ever since Wyn’s dad left when he was five, Carl’s been a stand-in father to him. I definitely don’t want to jeopardize the only male connection he has ever had. He needs it. “Chill out. I didn’t break in, he left me there. There’s a difference.”

  “Shoot. Tell that to Judge Huey. If you get caught, you’re on your own.”

  I pluck a piece of fuzz off his shirt. “You mean, if you get caught.”

  The corners of his mouth turn down. “I don’t follow.”

  “I got what I needed. Now, I want to see if you can put it back,” I whisper. Adding some drama, I survey the area before sliding the file out of my bag and hold it against his chest.

  “Ohhhh, no!” He backs away with his hands up, as if touching it will contaminate it. Then again, knowing Carl, he’s probably already got Wyn’s fingerprints on file, since Skyler is his daughter. “You’re whacked if you think I’m going in there with that. Besides, I already did you a favor.”

  “Psst. You didn’t do me a favor, you owed me a favor.”

  He leans in and pokes my shoulder with one finger. “Hey! You can’t keep holding that against me. You only changed one grade and that was over a year ago. I’ve paid you back, in more ways than one.” He winks.

  I wrinkle my reddening face and lightly smack the back of his head. “Whatever. Anyway, I didn’t just change your grade; I illegally hacked into the school’s computer. So I say, eye for an eye, know what I mean?”

  Wyn glares at me for a second before snatching the file out of my hand and stuffing it into his leather messenger bag. “Fine. But we’re even now. I’m puttin’ my foot down. I’m tired of doing all your dirty work.”

  “If it makes you feel better, we can call it even.” I shrug and watch an older couple walk by holding hands. “At least, for now.”

  “Ha! You’re dreaming. So was the B&E worth anything? What’d you find out?”

  “Not much new. Just notes on a partial boot print and an anonymous call about a place called Sidehill. Ever heard of it?”

  Wyn thinks for a second. “No, but have you asked Tommy yet? He’s lived here his whole life. He knows every trail out there.”

  “I’m heading to work now, so I’ll ask him.”

  “What kind of boot was it?”

  I shake my head. “Didn’t say. ‘Make unknown.’”

  His eyes light up. “You might be able to track that down. There was a case Carl was on last year. You know how they caught the guy? They tracked his tread to some custom boot maker and found the purchase order. I think Mama Sue still owns that boot place on the reservation.”

  “She’s still alive? I totally forgot about her.” I glance at Wyn out of the corner of my eye. “You know? You’re not as dumb as you look.”

  He can’t help but laugh out loud. “Gee, thanks.”

  I hook my arm through his and walk along with him. For a second, it feels like six months ago when he used to escort me to work. Before everything bad happened. “Seriously, the boot lady is a good idea, but there was no picture. Must be on his computer.”

  He keeps his eyes straight ahead. “Don’t look at me.”

  I study his face as he continues walking. “Wyn? Thanks for helping me. I know Carl would be pissed if he found out.”

  “Why? Because I’m aiding a felon? No harm in that.”

  “That, and because the case is pretty much closed at this point.” I stare up at the white puffs spotting the perfect blue sky. “Unless I find something concrete he can use.”

  Wyn swaggers next to me and pats my hand, still hooked through his arm. “G, you know he’d help you if he could. It’s out of his hands.”

  “Geez, you’re hanging out with him so much, you’re starting to sound like him.” We stop in front of my work, and he looks down at me. I notice the familiar freckle under his right eye. I used to love that little sun spot.

  I immediately break away, putting some space between us. I don’t want to want Wyn back. I lean back against the wall with one foot up, standing like a plastic flamingo, and try to go on with the conversation as if the thoughts about him aren’t going on inside my head. “Carl could fight to keep the case open.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I tell him about the Cheetos bag. “I’m betting it belongs to my dad.”

  Wyn mimics my stance, and his eyes grow wide. “Man, I’m getting a little worried about you. Seems like you’re getting obsessed with this whole thing. I mean, you’re hanging your hat on Cheetos.”

  I push off with my foot and cross my arms. “Obsessed? That bag could be evidence. It shouldn’t be out that far, and my dad’s missing, and he just happens to love them. Maybe it’s a clue. And if you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it on my own.” I turn away, but Wyn circles around me and blocks my exit.

  He cups my face with hands. “Easy, tiger. It’s me, and last time I checked, I am helping you. I mean, come on, Grace. You don’t talk to me for three months. Three. And the minute you call, I drop everything to help, so that’s not fair.”

  “I know.”

  He moves my bangs away from my eyes with his finger. “I’m just worried, that’s all. Doesn’t mean I’m against you. Neither is Captain. But you gotta chill out a little.”

  The tension in my body drains. “You’re right, but I’m serious, Wyn … I won’t stop until I figure out what happened out there.” I stare at the distant mountains cloaked in mist. “I need to know.”

  “Fair enough. But don’t push me away again. Deal?”

  “Deal.” I nod and squeeze his hand. “Hey. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  He holds my hand longer than the average shake. He smiles at me. “No, you’re not. And don’t you go all soft on me now.”

  I tug on his hand, hoping he’ll set mine free yet hold on to it at the same time. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  He squints his eyes as if trying to read my mind. “Look, I’ll put your stupid file back today, but you better make sure Captain doesn’t find out you’re still snooping around.” He mimics Carl’s signature phrase. “Or he’ll have to shut you down.”

  His impression of Carl is spot on, and I can’t help but crack up. Then I spot Mr. Fields carrying out another box from his store. “What’s going on with Fields’ place?”

  Wyn tries on his serious look for a minute. “I don’t know. He came by to see Captain yesterday. Evidently, the bank didn’t give him enough money. So he’s closing up shop. After thirty years. Can you believe it?”

  My heart sinks as I watch Mr. Fields hug his wife. “That sucks. He loves that place. This is the second shop that’s closed in the last few months. If this keeps happening, there won’t be a town left.”

  Just then, Skyler appears from around the corner. Compared to my standard black and tan look, she is overly colorful in turquoise jeans and a bright yellow top. Skyler tosses her over-processed hair and waves like an excited three-year-old. “Hey, Wyn! I’ve been looking for you! Want to join some of us for lunch?”

  “Hold on a second.” As soon as he faces me again, Skyler shoots me a dirty look. Typical. To this day, she hasn’t forgotten the Girl Scouts incident. Personally, I still don’t see the big deal. At least she has boobs.

  I can’t help but rearrange my hair a little. I look like a mess compared to her. The before and after shot at an Oprah makeover show. I point over his shoulder. “Loo
ks like love’s a-calling.”

  He smirks and his cheeks flush a little, as if someone pinched them. “Maybe it’s a wrong number.” He brushes his hand across my shoulder, pushing my hair to the back. Something he used to always do. “You wanna come with?”

  I laugh. “Me? Somehow, I’m guessing I’m not on Skyler’s Evite. But you go, I gotta get to work anyway.”

  He looks at Skyler then at me. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Go. I’m fine.”

  He bites his lip. “You know what FINE means, right?”

  Dr. Head’s definition of FINE scribbles across my brain. “Feelings Inside Not Expressed?”

  “No. Freaked out, insecure, neurotic and—.”

  “Emotional.” I roll my eyes and play along. “Gee, I’ll try real hard to keep my tears in check.” Behind him, Skyler crosses her arms and taps her foot to a silent beat. “Um, I think Barbie’s about to kick Ken’s ass.”

  He winks. “I’m not worried. Kinda hoping Skipper will save me.” He presses his finger into the dimple on my chin. “See ya later, Little Miss Independent.”

  When he joins Skyler, she makes a point of touching his arm and laughing a little too hard for my taste. I bird-dog them until they disappear around the corner, half wishing he’d stayed.

  I had forgotten how good of a distraction Wyn can be. I shake off the thought and turn away. How is it, after three months, Wyn can just jump back in and mush up all my feelings again. I thought I was over him. Because, to be honest, my heart can’t take any more drama.

  I have more than enough as it is.

  Survival Skill #9

  A good knife is an essential tool that can be used as a weapon or help construct other survival items.

  The wooden sign swings above me—Tommy’s Fishing Shack: Where Anyone Can Fly—squeaking in the breeze. As I push through the door, ready for my morning shift, the slight smell of leather finds my nose. The store is quiet and empty. Tan clothes, fishing vests, and waders hang on racks, and rows of fishing rods line the back wall. Soothing Native American music floats through the comfy space. No matter how much time I spend here, entering the shop always feels like I’m wrapping up in an old sweater on a chilly night.

  Comfy and warm.

  I call out to my boss. “Tommy?”

  A bass-toned voice answers me from the back room. “Elu! Be out in a second.” I grin at the Cherokee nickname he gave me when I was just a kid, or an usdi. Elu means “full of grace.”

  I’m full of something, but it definitely isn’t grace.

  I stroll toward the front counter, staring at the old pictures hanging along the wall. Some are of Tommy posing with famous fishermen who have frequented his well-respected shop. Others showcase him with large fish he’s caught in tournaments. I always tease him about not displaying the smaller catches. Each time, he explains it away.

  Only show your best side. No one wants to see the ugly one.

  A picture hanging on the wall catches my attention. The second my eyes settle on it, I jerk my head away as if I’ve been slapped. Chewing on a fingernail, I glance back at the photo of Dad and Tommy, both wearing disarming smiles. I gnaw on the next nail as I lean in closer. Dad’s wearing his favorite t-shirt with a flyfisherman on the front that says, Fly Me to the Moon.

  How could I not have noticed this before?

  It’s the same shirt he was wearing the last time I saw him.

  Tommy appears from out of the storage room with a large box in his hands. I smile at his outfit. Even when he’s on land, Tommy dresses as if he’s going fishing or just coming off the river. Shoulder-length, white hair peeks out from under a fishing hat, decorated with tons of lures.

  He glides up to me. “You’re late again.”

  I give him a hug. “How do you know? That old watch hasn’t worked in years. Can’t believe you haven’t fixed it yet.” I’ve never seen him without it since his wife died. Ama gave him the gift for their 50th anniversary.

  Tommy bends over and sets the box on the floor. “Time is nothing but an illusion.”

  “Good. I’ll remember that next time you dock me for being late.”

  He chuckles. “Smart girl. Too smart, if you ask me.” For the first time, he takes notice of me. His face crinkles, revealing the map of his long life. “Good lord, you look tired.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I brush my bangs away from my face. “Is that how you make a ge ya feel good?”

  His eyes flicker in the artificial light. “Elu! You’ve been practicing your Cherokee.”

  “Not really. I think I got lucky on that one.”

  He stares for a minute then frowns. “All right. What’s wrong?”

  I try to pretend I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Nothing. It’s just been a long week.”

  He sits down on the stack of boxes. “I’m all ears.”

  I cave instantly. “I found a Cheetos bag in the woods. Gave it to Carl.”

  Tommy’s eyes widen. “I don’t get it.”

  “Don’t you remember? Dad always carried those with him. Carl promised to dust the bag for fingerprints if I let the case go.”

  Tommy snaps out his pocketknife and zips it across the box. “No matter what you think, Captain’s a good cop.”

  As he pulls out a bundle of waterproof socks, I launch into the next topic, not wanting to debate Carl’s effectiveness. “Oh yeah, and yesterday, I came across some guy while I was out fishing. By Bear Creek.”

  “Who was he?”

  “That’s what I wanted to know. Said he was fishing.” Tommy returns to his inventory as I review the store checklist. Then a question pops into my head. “I almost forgot. Do you know anything about a place called Sidehill?

  Tommy pauses for a second as if searching his memory bank. “Hmm, don’t think so. Why?”

  “In the file, there was a reference to a place called Sidehill. I thought you might have heard of it since you were born in these mountains.”

  He fumbles with a stack of price tags and answers quickly. “Doesn’t ring a bell, but let me think about it.”

  I huff and puff. Another dead end. “That sucks.”

  Tommy eyes narrow. “By the way, what file?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said in the file. What file?”

  No use lying to him. I suck in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll tell you, but promise me you won’t get mad.”

  He squints and folds his arms across his chest, resembling a real chief. “Uh oh. What’d you do this time?”

  “I borrowed my dad’s case file from Carl’s office.”

  He frowns. “Borrowed? You mean stole? Are you nuda?”

  “Crazy with a capital K. There wasn’t much in the file. Anyway, Wyn’s putting it back for me. Carl never even missed it.”

  Tommy covers his ears with his hands. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear this. I can’t get involved in your shenanigans. Got too much on my plate. Forget Elu. I should call you du-la-di-nu-li-ni-gv-gv.”

  “Nah. Doesn’t sounds as cool. Plus, it’s a mouthful.”

  Tommy doesn’t smile. “Well, Ama used to be ‘strong-willed’ too, when she was younger. But she always knew where to draw the line. You and Wyn are both lucky you haven’t been busted for any of your crazy antics. If you aren’t careful, you’re both going to get into real trouble one of these days. And to be honest, I can’t afford any trouble around here. Got enough of my own.”

  I stop what I’m doing. “What do you mean?”

  He waves me off. “Things are tight. Got Ama’s medical bills I’m still paying off.”

  “Man, seems like everyone’s having problems in this town.”

  Tommy goes back to what he was doing. “Never mind all that. You don’t need to worry about me. You got enough on your mind.”

  “You can say that again.” I stack some papers on the counter and count the cash in the old cash register.

  He walks around the counter and hugs me tight. “You know I support you in what you
are doing to find your dad. However, I don’t want you doing things that’ll get you into trouble. Promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  He cups my shoulders with his large hands. “If you find out anything new, you’ll talk to Les or the Captain first. Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous, especially on your own.”

  “I promise.” I cross my fingers behind my back and jump into a new subject. “You’ll never believe what else happened.”

  Tommy grins as he stacks fishing tins in a perfect column. “You gonna make me guess?”

  My eyes widen for emphasis. “I ran into Simon. Face to face. From here to there.” I point to the back room.

  Tommy stops working and gives me his undivided attention. “Go on.” After I tell him the play-by-play of my encounter, he whistles. “How did he look?”

  “Big and bad.”

  He chuckles. “Good for him. What do you think it means?”

  I think about the animal totems I studied on the reservation. “Well, bears are sure of their power, so sometimes they forget to show caution. If a bear symbol shows up, it means you have to pay more attention to how you think and act.”

  “Interesting.” Tommy straightens some shirts on a rack. “Either that or he was just hungry.”

  I can feel my face redden. “Very funny. Hey, speaking of bears. Did you talk to Chief Reed about closing the Cherokee Bear Pit yet?”

  Tommy sighs and removes his hat. “Elu, there’s nothing I can do.”

  I turn away from him and straighten a t-shirt display. “I don’t see how we can let this happen. Those bear pits are a disgrace to the reservation. It’s animal abuse. Offensive. Disgusting.”

  “I don’t disagree. But Chief Reed says it brings in a lot of income. Nothing I say will change his mind.”

  I face him and keep from yelling. “Tommy, as you know, those bears live their lives in a cement pit, sitting in their own crap. Grizzlies. Sun bears. Last time I went there to see Chief Reed, the poor things walked in endless circles, begging tourists to feed them Lucky Charms or old cat food. One bear was so depressed, he had sores from lying in the same spot for so long.”