Runaway Storm

by Dawne Knobbe

  “It was in pretty bad shape when we found it.” He pointed at the ceiling. “We had to fix a leaky spot or two and replace a few boards. Nothing that David couldn’t handle with a hammer and a few nails.”

  “When will David and Beagle be back?” Nate asked, wondering if the other boys would welcome him.

  “Dunno. Sometime before dark if they’re lucky.”

  “Why didn’t you go?”

  “It’s a long trek,” Joey said, staring up at the patched ceiling, hands tucked comfortably behind his head. “They had to walk all the way up that road we were on and down the other side to the main road. Cars can’t get down here since some guy bought the land and blocked off the road. It’s a couple of miles uphill and a couple down. Then they had to hitchhike over to the marina at Montague harbor. That’s where they figured they could sell the fish.”

  “Then what?”

  “They were gonna hitch a ride to the Corner Store for supplies. And after that, back to the bottom of the road. Then they’ll have to haul all the stuff they bought back over the hill.”

  “Have they done it before?”

  “Oh, yeah. I went last time, but it’s harder to catch rides with three of us. Besides, David says if Beagle puts on his best lost puppy look, all the moms and grandmas stop to pick them up.” Joey rolled off the mattress and headed for the door again. “Come on, I’ll show you the yard.”

  The yard he was referring to included a small, roughly fenced-off garden where the boys were attempting to grow vegetables.

  “David’s pretty clever,” Joey said. “He built the fence so the deer can’t get in and eat his plants, but he didn’t want it to look like a fence in case some nosy person stumbled through here.”

  Nate examined the branches woven together. They blended perfectly into the landscape.

  Joey pointed to a tree on the far side of the clearing. “That’s an apple tree over there, and we think the one beside it might be plum.”

  An owl-like hoot erupted from the cedar grove, and Joey cocked his head. “Sounds like the troops are back,” he said and bounded toward the path through the woods.

  Nate sat on a stump and watched Joey disappear between the cedars. Maybe the other boys would be unhappy with Joey for bringing him to their hidden camp. He’d find out soon enough, he thought, as their voices grew closer.

  “Joey, you shouldn’t have brought anyone here. You wanna go back to foster care, you dumb shit?” The boy talking emerged from the woods before Joey could answer. Nate watched as David scanned the clearing before his gaze picked out Nate. David headed toward Nate frowning. Two feet from him, David stopped and swung an overstuffed bag from his shoulder.

  “You must be David,” Nate said, trying to paste a smile on his face. He watched David’s arm muscle ripple as he easily set down the huge bag. As David straightened to look him in the eyes, Nate slid off his perch and thrust out his hand.

  The truth was, he had expected someone his own size and age, not a six-foot-tall bodybuilder who had to be at least seventeen.

  David rubbed at the stubble on his chin as he examined Nate. Then he reached for the bag again, ignoring Nate’s proffered hand.

  “You’re Nate, I presume,” David said, hauling the bag back onto his shoulder and raising a sandy eyebrow. “That’s Beagle,” he added, gesturing toward the boy who had entered the clearing with Joey. The two of them were trying to share the weight of a sack as they made their way toward the cabin.

  “So,” David said, “you’re here now; you might as well come in. Besides, I’m dying of thirst.” He headed toward the cabin, the sack bouncing against his back as if it weighed nothing.

  Inside, David gulped down a cup of water then began unpacking his haul. He pulled out packages of dried food and stacked them to one side, then produced a bag of marshmallows and tossed them to Joey, who sat cross-legged on the mattress nearly salivating.

  “We’ll eat like kings tonight,” David said, giving his brother an indulgent smile.

  “Good, ’cause I promised Nate it wouldn’t be fish.”

  David swung his focus back to Nate, who stood by the door fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.

  “He fed me hot dogs for lunch,” Joey said, looking from his brother to Nate and back.

  Nate knew the younger boy sensed the wariness in his brother just like he could.

  “Nate’s hanging out in the islands for the summer too,” Joey offered. “Ran away from New York, didn’t ya, Nate?”

  “Really?” David said. “You don’t look like much of a runaway to me.”

  Nate glanced at his wrist where David had focused his glare.

  “Nice watch,” David said, before returning to the bag. “I reckoned you were just another one of the summer people, by the look of you.”

  “Summer people?” Nate asked.

  “The rich guys who own the big houses along the waterfront,” Dave answered.

  “Can you imagine being so rich you’d leave a big house empty half the year?” Joey piped in around a mouthful of marshmallow fluff.

  Beagle came close to Nate and reached out a finger to touch one of the dials on Nate’s diving watch, his eyes wide. “You get that from a pawn shop?” he asked.

  David spat the mouthful of water he had just swigged straight across the room with a burst of laughter. “He probably doesn’t even know what a pawn shop is, Joey,” he said wiping his mouth.

  “’Course I do,” Nate said, “but this was a present from my mom.”

  “What for, good grades or something?” David asked. He had an edge in his voice, and Nate felt more unwelcome than ever.

  “My parents aren’t rich,” Nate said. “Pretty much boring middle class. My dad’s a geologist.”

  Beagle didn’t seem to notice the tension between Nate and David at all. “Gee-ol-o-gist sounds like money-making work to me,” David said. He made another quick inspection of Nate’s watch, then plopped down beside Joey and reached for the half-empty marshmallow bag.

  “I’d like to know what getting presents feels like,” Beagle said then began to rummage through his bag. Nate wondered if Beagle was making a weak joke.

  Unlike David, Beagle was almost exactly what Nate expected. His nickname had helped Nate’s imagination, of course. He was closer to Joey in age and size, though he looked stronger and had surprisingly delicate features. Beagle pulled a stack of paperback books from his bag as if they were treasure and handed them to Joey with a slow smile, his large droopy eyes like warm melted chocolate. “Here. Your brother doesn’t want us to forget how to read over the summer.”

  Joey grabbed the books with enthusiasm and flopped over on his belly to read the back covers.

  Beagle dug into his bag again and pulled out a pair of tattered water shoes. “I bought these for me,” he said, showing Joey the shoes that had once been blue. “I don’t know how you can climb all over those barnacle-covered rocks and not get your feet cut.” He sounded almost girlish, Nate thought, taking in Beagle’s long eyelashes and wispy pale hair. There was something vulnerable and a little sad about him. He was the kind of kid that got beat on at school.

  Having nearly emptied his bag, David reached in and pulled out a long box.

  “We hit pay dirt at the fire hall rummage sale,” he said, holding it up. “Anyone for Monopoly? We can all be rich!”

  “Since when do you play games?” Joey asked, frowning up at his brother from his pile of books.

  David shrugged. “Could be fun when it rains. At least it’ll stop us from going completely crazy without TV.”

  Nate suddenly felt closed in. Part of him wanted so badly to be a part of the group, but another part of him felt awkward and unwelcome. “I’m gonna go check my boat,” he said, turning to open the door.

  “Don’t forget dinner,” Joey said, popping a marshmallow into his mouth. “It’ll be good.”

  “What time?” Nate glanced at his watch.

  “Let’s see,” Joey said, holding up his bare arm
and studiously examining it. “One hair past a freckle,” he said, his dimples creasing into a smile.

  “We’ll put it on whenever you get back,” David said. “And Nate, if you run into anyone, we’re not here.”

  “Me neither,” Nate said, hoping he sounded humorous, but Dave didn’t even glance in his direction.

  9

  Nate wandered back down the trail, found the road, and followed it toward the beach. Where the road forked to the left he discovered a rotted sign upside-down in the long grass. Curious, he flipped it over. The ground beneath was dark brown and writhing with worms and wood bugs squirming uncomfortably in the light. A couple of worms clung to the sign, dangling just below his grip. He let go in disgust and the sign tumbled backward into the grass, exposing the remains of large black lettering. He could make out the word camp and an arrow that must have pointed down the road, but the rest of the letters had been eaten away.

  He vaguely remembered seeing some kind of kids’ summer camp the last time he’d been here with his dad, but it must have been closed down for good when the road was blocked off. Everything seemed to have changed since then, and Nate couldn’t seem to get his bearings. He thought they had camped somewhere off to the right just up from the beach but couldn’t be sure.

  The sound of a boat engine distracted him, and Nate looked toward the harbor, just visible through the trees. A boat was slowing as it approached the beach. He moved down the road to get a closer look. The lettering on the side of the craft was much easier to read than the letters on the sign. Large orange print announced the arrival of “The Department of Fisheries.”

  Instinctively, Nate ducked behind a cedar tree and watched. Two men were on board, one steering and the other standing at the bow. He heard the boat scrape up onto the sandy beach, and the man in the front leapt ashore.

  “Won’t take me more than half an hour to check things out,” he said. “Doesn’t look like there’s anyone around.”

  “Right,” the driver hollered back. “I’ll just make a sweep down the island and come back.”

  The man on the shore saluted and turned to scan the shoreline.

  Nate’s instinct was to run, but if the man found his kayak, then what? He’d probably start looking around more carefully; maybe he’d find the path that led to the boys’ cabin. The way things had gone earlier, David probably would think Nate had given them away on purpose.

  Not likely, Nate thought, trying to slow the thumping in his chest. The boys had been here for more than a month, according to Joey, and they hadn’t been discovered yet. Nate watched the man trudge toward him, and he felt like a rabbit frozen in the path of an oncoming car. He had to do something right now, either step out and act like there was nothing wrong or slip deeper into the cover of the woods and hope he wouldn’t be discovered and need to explain himself.

  Nate hadn’t heard a sound behind him—not a crunch of stone underfoot nor the snap of a twig—but a hand clamped down across his mouth and an arm grabbed him around the chest, pulling him back.

  “Don’t scream,” David’s hot breath whispered in his ear. “Just follow me quickly and quietly.”

  David let go of him and headed back up the road, turning only once to make sure Nate was following. Nate worried that the trail back to the cabin was too far up the road; they would never make it back without being seen. The same thought must have occurred to David, because he turned toward the bushy brambles directly across from the fork in the road that led to the abandoned camp. He lifted a thorny limb and pulled Nate into the thicket. Dropping onto all fours, David crawled further into the bushes with Nate following. About fifteen feet into the greenery, David stopped and twisted around to face Nate, a finger pressed firmly against his lips.

  It wasn’t long before they heard the steady crunch of footsteps coming closer. The crunch grew louder as the man approached the fork; then, for a few long moments, Nate heard nothing. He imagined the man bending over the sign he’d disturbed earlier and mentally kicked himself for not putting it back the way he’d found it. The footsteps began again, only this time they were fainter. The man must have turned away from the brambles. It sounded like he was heading down the road toward the abandoned camp.

  David’s body had been motionless, like that of a forest animal that senses danger. Nate watched the tension melt out of his shoulders, but when Nate opened his mouth, David held his finger to his lips again and shook his head.

  Above, the sky was turning a dimmer blue as the sun moved away from them. It wouldn’t be completely dark for a couple of hours, but the warmth of the day was retreating. An army of mosquitoes swarmed up from the swampy ground like vampires. Nate shivered, listening as they buzzed hungrily around his ankles. He didn’t dare slap at them, figuring it was better to give up a little blood than reveal their hiding spot.

  After what seemed like an hour, they heard the sound of a boat engine approaching. It slowed then stopped, and the sound of two men’s voices echoed across the water.

  David slipped into a crouch and straightened as the boat engine kicked back to life and the drone faded into the distance.

  “He must have taken a shortcut back along the beach,” David said. He slipped past Nate and gestured for him to follow.

  Back on the road, David turned toward Nate. “Think you could handle carrying half your kayak all the way back to our place?” he asked. “It’ll be safer there.”

  Nate nodded. “No problem,” he said, thinking that David had come around to accepting him more now. Besides, it couldn’t be more than a quarter mile, tops, from the beach to the cabin.

  Halfway to the cabin, Nate realized how Joey must have felt trying to lug the kayak up the beach. Empty, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but loaded with gear, Solace was making this the longest quarter mile of Nate’s life. Still he persevered, refusing to give in to his weakening muscles. For one, he didn’t want to appear weak in front of David now that he seemed to have made ground in being accepted. Besides, if he kept up this kind of activity, Nate knew he’d look like David by the end of the summer. With that in mind, Nate shifted the handle from one hand to the other, put his head down, and kept on trudging.

  Eventually, they broke into the clearing, and the other two boys came running to help. David and Nate set the kayak down on the side of the cabin farthest away from the fire pit. Nate watched David run his hand over the smooth yellow paint on the deck of the bow and tried not to cringe as he waited for another sneering remark. David didn’t disappoint him.

  “Let me guess, another gift?” he asked.

  Nate’s lips twitched weakly and he shrugged. “Birthday present.”

  To Nate’s relief, Joey and Beagle started poking through the stuff tucked in around the seat of the kayak.

  “Boat’s a girl,” Joey called to Beagle, who had practically disappeared into the hull. “She even has a name.”

  Beagle reappeared with one of Nate’s dry bags in hand. “What’s in here?”

  “Tent,” Nate answered, taking it from Beagle.

  “Cool,” Joey said. “Let’s set it up.”

  “You can rig your tent here,” David said and headed back to the cabin door. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starved.”

  Joey and Beagle helped Nate unfurl his tent and set it up before dinner.

  The two young boys continued digging through Nate’s stuff. “I found the food bag,” Joey hollered, holding up a plastic bag half full of cookies. He pulled open the bag and stuffed two cookies into his mouth.

  Nate grabbed the bag and playfully cuffed him on the head. “Those are my contribution to dinner.”

  Joey ducked under his arm and managed to steal the bag away. “Catch,” he hollered, tossing it to Beagle.

  Nate thought of Mike and Eric and was suddenly struck by a twinge of homesickness. He’d forgotten to call Mike like he’d said he would. He promised himself that he would call in the morning. Maybe he’d try Sam again too, or at least check for any more stupid mess
ages.

  Smoke billowed out of the cabin’s tilted chimney along with the smell of something good to eat. David leaned out the door and called, “Dinner in five.”

  Joey and Beagle dropped Nate’s belongings and raced toward the door.

  An hour later the boys sat comfortably around the outdoor fire pit roasting marshmallows and passing around the bag of cookies.

  “If I eat one more cookie I’m going to puke,” Beagle said and farted loudly.

  “Is that the best thank-you you can produce?” Joey asked. He let out an extra long belch, followed by two hiccups and another long burp; then he settled against his log. “Those were the best burgers I’ve eaten in a long time,” he said, yawning sleepily.

  “They’re the only burgers you’ve eaten in a long time,” David reminded him.

  Nate watched as David reached out to tousle his brother’s hair. “So what do you guys do around here when you’re not fishing or trekking halfway across the island?”

  David stretched his arms and then slowly rolled to his feet. “Stick around a while and you’ll find out.” He reached down and took hold of Joey’s arm. “Come on, you tired pirates,” he said to Joey and Beagle. “The fish will be up early.”

  “What about one of your pirate stories?” Joey asked.

  “Yeah, the one about the ship that sank right off the coast,” Beagle added.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” David said. “I’m too beat tonight.”

  After the boys went inside, Nate crawled into his tent and zipped up the flap. His left shoulder muscle kept twitching, but he was too exhausted to let it bother him. It was no more than a few minutes before he fell into a deep, motionless sleep.

  10

  Nate woke to the sound of a robin twittering outside his tent. In fact, unlike their New York cousins, the island birds greeted the rising sun with such enthusiasm that it was hard to be annoyed, even if it was barely six o’clock. He unzipped his tent flap and breathed in the misty, fresh morning air, along with the smell of frying bacon. Following his nose to the cabin, he hesitated, but the tempting smell overcame him and he knocked lightly on the door.