The water was fabulous. It filled their empty stomachs, even if only briefly, and refreshed their weary faces.
Left at the creek: Those had been their instructions. Left at the creek and then you’re there. With barely a pause they set out in the direction of their uncle’s home and forged onward, driven now by their desperate need for food.
Her mom was back. Again Katie saw her face. This time she knew it was a hallucination, and she guessed that meant she was going crazy, but she didn’t even mind. The face seemed to hover in the air above the creek, or sometimes to watch her from the other bank. It helped Katie feel that they were not alone.
There were no trees above the water and the moonlight that had barely penetrated the forest shone full upon them through the now open air. Katie could see David’s gaze roaming everywhere through the new brightness as he trudged forward, searching for a sign, any sign, of their uncle Alex.
“You follow the water and you’re there.” That was how their parents had always said you did it, and in the end that was how it was. Katie and David did not know what they were looking for—a hut? A cave? What did hermits live in, after all? But they both saw it at the same time and they recognized it at once. It was on the other side of the creek and it was a house: a small, neat house made of wood. A well-tended garden enclosed by a fence lay beside it. Curtains were drawn across its two windows, but light shone from behind them. Light poured, too, from the front door, which stood wide open.
And in the doorway—looking right at them—was a man as familiar to their eyes as an echo is to the ears. He was not a stranger. He seemed to be someone they had seen before and loved for a long, long time. He was of medium height and slim, but in that first moment neither Katie nor David noticed any of that. They saw nothing but the dark oval of his face and the deep eyes that gazed at them in wonderment from beneath his black hair.
It was as if their mother’s face, which Katie had seen with her mind’s eye, had suddenly turned real. She was not afraid anymore. A path of flat stones ran straight across the creek to the little house. Wordlessly she stepped across them toward the man in the doorway. David was right behind her, and then they were in his arms.
But the shock of recognition was not over. Another still more dazzling one was to follow, the instant their blinking eyes adjusted to the warm light within their uncle’s home. All around them on every wall were photographs—dozens and dozens of photographs—of them. There were David and Katie, moments after their births. There they were as toddlers, and there was a picture of them just a few months ago in the new house. Their parents were there too. They were there as a young couple just married, and then holding their twin babies, and smiling with their children, and with their arms around Alex.
But the real Uncle Alex was right there before them, and he was busy. From a small cupboard on the wall he was lifting down plates and mugs and a loaf of bread. Their stomachs twisted yet again as he cut the bread into thick slices and spread it with butter.
Nothing had ever been as vivid as those pictures and that bread. Neither Katie nor David had ever seen anything so striking or tasted anything so intensely. So absorbed were they in these sensations that neither of them noticed how Alex somehow fixed their beds. But all at once, the beds were there. Then they fell into them and fell asleep, as entirely and suddenly as if they had fallen off a cliff.
It was nearly evening of the next day when they awoke. But that was hardly surprising, as they had not arrived at their uncle’s house until almost dawn.
So when at last they opened their eyes, it was to the aroma of dinner, bubbling in a pot over an open fire in Alex’s front yard. Not wanting to wake them, he had cooked outside. But they could not sleep through that smell: the smell of the first hot food that had been fixed for them since the pizza they had eaten the night before their mom and dad had left for Katkajan, a lifetime ago.
The savory odor cut through David’s stomach like a knife, causing him to sit up sharply on his mat on the floor. His blinking eyes met his uncle’s smile, which was framed in the window.
“I thought it’d wake you if I cranked this up,” Alex said, gesturing at the window, which he had just propped open with a stick. He was outside minding the meal, but he bent over to rest his elbows on the sill. “Based on how hungry you were last night.”
Katie was awake too. “What is it?” she asked urgently. “That smell, I mean.” She had been given the bed, and now without further ceremony she swung her feet to the floor.
“A little something from the garden,” said their uncle. “And there’s a fish roasting too. I caught it just about an hour ago. Healthful and delicious, like everything here,” he added proudly. “It’s from the good, clean mountain earth.”
But then concern furrowed Alex’s brow and his smile faded. “I did hate to wake you when you’re so tired,” he said. “But I have a feeling that my very welcome guests have a story to tell me, and I think it’s time I heard what it was.”
Of course he let them eat first. They were ravenous, and neither of them had ever tasted anything like the flaky white fish that steamed beneath its slightly charred skin, or the thick, flavorful soup. Sighing, Katie and David mopped up the last drops with more of their uncle’s rich, chewy bread.
They ate at his small table, with the doors and windows open and the cool, early-evening air floating through. The mountaintop smelled amazing, and there were no sounds at all but birdsong and the trickling of the creek. After their long days and nights on the road, amid the dust and grit and stink of truck stops and highways, David found he was as hungry for the clean and peaceful setting as he was for the food. Maybe Alex wasn’t weird after all, living in a place like this.
Certainly their uncle didn’t seem weird. Katie tried not to stare at all his things, but she couldn’t help noticing how nice his tiny house was. It was so neat and clever. Everything he needed was there, and it all fit in so ingeniously.
And it was great to be clean. Alex had given them clothes of his own to sleep in and while they had slept, he had washed their shorts and T-shirts. Then hungry as they were, he had insisted that they bathe before sitting down to eat in them. They loved the shower he had rigged up behind his house. Sweet water from his well was pumped into a tank that rested high up on tall stilts. The water was warmed by a flame, and when it flowed down over her Katie thought she had never felt anything so lovely. She couldn’t stop sniffing her arms, just to marvel at their fresh smell.
Their uncle waited patiently while they ate. But when they had finished, over mugs of sweet, minty tea they told him their story. They didn’t tell it very smoothly. They interrupted each other and left out a lot of parts, and everything seemed to get said in fits and starts. But even so it was a huge relief to spill it out. And in a way, they only truly grasped what had happened to them when they saw the horror on Alex’s face.
They stumbled a little at the end, when they told him how they had climbed the mountain to his house. “We stopped walking for a while,” David said, suddenly not knowing how much to share. “It was hard without the lights and we were afraid—we weren’t sure—well, we didn’t know if you’d be glad to see us,” he finished lamely.
He had barely caught himself. He’d almost said “We were afraid of what you’d be like.”
Their uncle reddened and swallowed. Apparently David had not caught himself in time. Alex seemed to have figured out what he had really meant.
“We’re not worried anymore,” added Katie hastily.
Their uncle nodded seriously. “It was perfectly reasonable for you to wonder,” he said a little stiffly. “You’d been through a lot and you didn’t know me at all. And most people don’t live by themselves, the way I do. You were probably afraid I was some kind of freak.”
Katie was mortified. “No, we weren’t!” she cried.
Unexpectedly, though, David grinned and looked his uncle straight in the eye. “Yep,” he said, “we were. Uncle Alex, we were afraid you were dangerous
.”
“David!”
But David’s candor seemed to relax their uncle, who now grinned back. Katie, who found all this frankness irritating, glared at her brother and pressed forward.
“What we were really worried about,” she said, “was that maybe we’d just been dumb. I mean, we started to worry that even if you were nice—and of course, you are”—again she glared at David—“you might not be able to help. Even though you know about Rover and everything, we thought maybe there wouldn’t be anything you could do to save Mom and Dad and Theo.”
Alex rose to his feet and began striding back and forth across the small room. Katie and David watched him in silence. He seemed lost in thought.
Then he abruptly stopped his restless pacing. He hitched over a stool and sat down between them, planting his elbows on the tabletop and his chin in his hands. “Kids,” he said, frowning, “what you’ve been through is horrible—beyond words. For children to have to endure this—at your age—I don’t know how you made it through. And I really, really want to give it a happy ending, where you get back everything you’ve lost. But I know you want the truth, so I’m going to tell you right now that it might not be possible.”
Remorse flooded his face as he saw their dismay. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try,” he corrected hastily. “There is one thing I can do.”
The blood had drained from their limbs and now it began, tentatively, to return.
“I can’t say whether it will work,” continued their uncle. “But I can give it a shot, and I will. And you definitely did the right thing coming here,” he added. “If this doesn’t do it—what I’m going to try—then probably nothing could.” He paused. “We’re going to have to take a trip.”
“Where?” asked Katie.
“You?” asked David, incredulous.
This time Katie blushed to the roots of her hair at her brother’s rudeness. But once again, Alex didn’t seem to take offense. He grinned another crooked grin.
“Of course,” he said. “Travelin’ man.”
“Not,” said David. Alex just looked blankly at him, so he amplified. “You’re not. Not a travelin’ man.”
“David!”
Their uncle grew very grave. “It’s OK, Katie. It’s true that I’m not usually a traveler. I travel to Melville for supplies, but apart from that I haven’t left this mountain in almost fifteen years. But try to remember: Your mom and dad and Theo are my family too.”
“But where are we going?” asked Katie.
“Washington.”
At this Katie looked alarmed. “Washington DC? But there are Katkajanians all over Washington! They could be looking for us in Washington—that’s where Trixie is!” Her uncle had named the last place on earth where she wanted to be. “That’s where we just came from! We can’t go—”
Firmly, Alex cut her off. “If we didn’t have to, we wouldn’t,” he said. “But there’s someone I must see—someone to whom I must speak. And that person is in Washington DC.” Rising distractedly, he produced a large, flat washing pan and began to stack their plates and cups inside it.
“Do we have to go with you?” asked Katie, getting up to help. She felt that she could see Nose and Hair, and hear Trixie’s harsh, splintery laugh.
“I’m afraid you do—both of you,” said Alex. “I don’t want either of you staying here alone.”
“We can take care of ourselves!”
“Yes, Katie, of course you can,” he replied. “But that’s not it. Those two thugs who grabbed you will eventually figure out where I live.”
This was too close to what they already knew to ignore. The blessed sensation of protection that they had both been savoring since they walked through their uncle’s door vanished like smoke. The sighing of the wind in the trees and the trickling of the creek, which had been the sweet music of safety, became veils that concealed creeping footsteps and approaching danger.
“So we’ll all need to go,” repeated Alex, “and first thing in the morning.”
“Maybe we should leave now,” said David. Katie had been right. Nose and Hair would only waste so much time in New Hampshire.
“No,” said Alex firmly. “Right now it’s almost dark. We’ll travel in the morning.” He gazed at their ashen faces, and woe creased his forehead. “I’ve scared you,” he said miserably. “I’m so new to all this. I have so little experience with children. Please forgive me. Sit down,” he added, abruptly changing his plan. “We’ll wash these later—or rather, I will after you’ve gone to sleep, which you’ll be doing again, very soon. But first I want to talk about Katkajan.”
And he did. They all pulled their stools outside, where the evening sky deepened from blue to indigo to black as the stars grew bright above and the fireflies glimmered below. While night fell, Katie and David’s uncle told them about the faraway place where their sister had been born and their parents had vanished.
It seemed that Alex had lived in Katkajan, years ago when he was young. He had loved the place and the people. Katkajan was a free country then, but already a growing insurgent movement threatened its peaceful government. When Alex had returned home and he and the Bowdens had developed Rover, he’d particularly hoped their invention would help Katkajan, along with the people there whom he admired so much.
“So I don’t like to see you hating Katkajan, Katie,” said her uncle. “It isn’t a bad country—there are no bad countries. There are only bad people, and most Katkajanians are good. I’m sure most of them would help your parents if they had the chance.”
“Is that your plan?” asked Katie. “Are you going to get the good Katkajanians to help?”
“No—I’ll be trying something different,” said her uncle.
“But what?” Katie persisted.
“We can discuss that later,” he replied. “You’ve been under a terrible strain. Right now you need your rest.”
Katie was about to say that she was not too tired, but David cut her off.
“Uncle Alex,” David said, “this all reminds me—all this talk about Katkajan and stuff. About Rover—what is it anyway? I mean, what does it do?”
Katie heard this question with interest. Rover had always been off-limits, but David did have a point, asking about it now. Things had changed, after all.
Apparently they had not changed enough. Alex’s face shut like a book at the mention of Rover. “David,” he said, and his voice was kind but firm, “I can certainly understand why you would want to ask. But I’m afraid that information is only available on a need-to-know basis. That means that only those who need to know can be told. And right now you have no such need. Fortunately,” he added.
“Well, will you use it? To help find Mom and Dad and Theo?”
“We’ll see,” said their uncle. “But first we have to get to Washington.”
Katie and David exchanged glances. They were glad that Alex was helping. It was a huge relief, just being with him. But as for Rover, they were not at all sure that they didn’t need to know.
Alex, though, was moving on. He frowned. “I rarely wish that I had a car, but I have to admit that tonight I do.”
“We have a car,” said Katie.
Alex looked confused. “Of course you do. Maybe even two cars, at home. But we’ll need one here,” he said. “In Vermont.”
“It is here. David, where’s that little card?”
David gave her his I’m-being-patient-with-a-mentally-challenged-person look. “Katie?” he asked, eyebrows up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
She glowered. “The card from the taxi guy. We came here in a taxi,” she explained, turning to Uncle Alex. “I guess we didn’t tell you that part. And the driver gave us his card.”
“A taxi?” asked Alex. “I thought you said you rode in trucks.”
“Mostly it was trucks,” said David. “We just took a taxi part of the way. It was my idea,” he added, feeling suddenly proud. Pretty cool idea, come to think of it.
“
The driver was very nice,” said Katie. “He could tell something was wrong and he said we should call him if we ever needed anything. So I’m sure he would take us to Washington.”
“Washington’s a long way to go in a cab,” said Alex dubiously.
“Here it is,” said David, who had been fishing in his pocket. He produced a battered rectangle of white cardboard and looked around for a phone. “Mike. I’ll call him. What do I say?” he asked, suddenly not knowing.
“Depends,” said his uncle. “What did you already tell him?”
“A bunch of lies,” admitted David. “But we never told him we were looking for you, if that’s what you mean. Or not exactly, anyway.”
“Tell him now,” said Alex decidedly. He rose and continued talking as he bent to lift his stool. “Tell the driver you found your uncle who lives on the mountain. It’s OK,” he added in response to their questioning looks. “I’m a hermit, but I’m not a secret. They know about me down in Melville.
“If this Mike was worried about you, then at first he might not be happy that you’re with me. He might not like it that we want to go so far. But we don’t actually have to convince him to take us—not tonight, anyway. We just have to get him to talk to us. So tell him I’m the one you were looking for. And tell him now that you’ve found me, we want to go get your parents.”
“Which is true,” put in Katie.
“Right. But don’t tell him anything else. And we’ll have to watch what we say when we’re in his car. No one must know what’s really going on. Not even Mike.” Alex stood, stretched, and then swung his stool indoors.
“Got it,” said David. “Um, how about a phone?” he added, holding up the card.
Alex stepped smartly over to a shelf above his bed, lifted down a box, and removed a small, sleek cell phone. He held it out to David, grinning. “Thought I didn’t have one, didn’t you?” he asked.
David grinned back. “No comment,” he said, flipping it open.
Katie was very tired. She scarcely listened as David dialed and he and their uncle arranged to meet Mike for a conversation the next day. Mike hadn’t said yes to the trip, but he hadn’t hung up on them either. Good.
The Secret of Rover Page 14
