“I might be impressed if I knew what that meant, Gabriel,” Maya remarked. “But I’ll be more impressed after you chop this up.” She handed him a large onion and a knife and motioned to the plastic cutting sheet unrolled on a stump top.
Shaking his head, Gabriel set down the onion and gave it a vicious chop, halving it. “A Master Wizard is level twelve. There’s only thirteen levels to Vebulaze. Everyone knows that.”
“Welcome to the real world,” Nick hissed under his breath.
“Beam me off this ignoramus planet.” Gabriel hacked at the onion, and Sam began to wonder about the wisdom of assigning the big kid to knife duty.
“Uh, Gabriel.” Maya moved closer. “You need to take the outer peel off. Nobody wants to eat that brown paper stuff.”
“News to me.” The boy pointed the knife at her. “I never said I could cook.”
Sam tensed, watching the knife.
Maya paused to snap her boot heels together, and then made a salaaming gesture, looping her hand in front of her chest. “If you please, Master Wizard of Vebulaze, may I show you how to remove the outer peel?”
Gabriel actually grinned. He gestured with his knife to the onion. “You may approach.”
Together they bent over the onion. Troy Johnson had been right, Maya was a natural at dealing with these kids. It was amazing to think Maya and Gabriel were the same age.
Justin and Taylor tromped back into camp, each carrying a large pot of water. Aidan followed, his arms clasped around a heavy collapsible plastic container.
Sam gestured to the stove, and Justin thunked his pot down on the burner. “Shit, you wouldn’t believe how fuckin’ cold that water is.”
She repeated the company line. “No swearing, please.”
Justin loomed over her, using his massive bulk to appear menacing. “Then how the fuck are we supposed to talk?”
The gleam of his headlamp blanked out his features as she peered up at him. “Expand your vocabulary. You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you can come up with something.”
He rubbed his hands on his shirt for a long minute, drying them, and for a few seconds she worried he might erupt into violence. Then he shouted, “Gex!”
All activity stopped. Everyone turned to stare at him.
Standing straddle-legged, he put his fists on his hips and snarled, “What the gex you guys starin’ at?”
Olivia laughed and nodded as she peeled the lid from a can of tomato paste.
“Lurik.” Gabriel waved his knife. “I’m finished chopping this lurik onion.”
“Then bring that meekam mess over here,” Maya directed, waving a wooden spoon at the pot she was dumping chopped peppers into.
Gabriel frowned fiercely at her. “Lurik you!” But then he grinned, lifted the diced onion on the cutting sheet, and walked toward her.
“When the gex will dinner be done?” Justin asked.
Olivia waved a package of pasta at him. “Help me open these onu packages of spaghetti, and it would get done faster.”
“Onu?” Nick turned from the stove he was tending. “That sounds like an animal.” Switching to a newscaster tone, he held a fist beneath his chin like a microphone. “Today, in an unimaginable tragedy, an entire African village was wiped out by a rampaging herd of onu.”
“Those lurik onu!” Gabriel yelped in falsetto.
Aidan waved his hands to encompass the cooking area. “Could we have a little meekam focus here?”
Everyone laughed.
Kyla had told her about these magic moments during expeditions. Sam was surprised and pleased that Justin had created the first one only hours after he’d refused to cooperate with the group.
They formed a circle to eat, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Their first night’s camp was in a designated wilderness area; no fires were allowed. In the center of their circle were three candles, their flames creating the focal point that humans seem to crave in the darkness.
Taylor and Gabriel were appalled that the only drinking choice was local water.
“Why don’t you have Coke?” Gabriel asked. “Everyone has Coke.” His normal voice was higher than she’d expected, given the boy’s size. That and his childlike attitude made him seem younger than eighteen.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to carry a twenty-four-pack for us? There is herbal tea and powdered lemonade mix if you want to make yourself some.”
The kid focused on his plate.
“This isn’t even bottled water.” Taylor shook her Nalgene container. “This is the same stuff that came out of that creek.”
Sam noticed she was eating the pasta and the bread, in spite of her earlier objection.
“Aidan and I filtered it,” Maya told her. “Tomorrow morning we’ll show you all how to filter the water for your bottles.”
Ashley studiously picked the sausage from her spaghetti, moving it to the edges of her plate. Beside her, Justin quickly cleaned his plate, and then reached over and scraped Ashley’s sausage into his own with a remnant of his bread.
“Hey!” she objected.
He shoveled a bite of sausage into his mouth. “You weren’t going to eat it.”
“That’s rude.”
“That’s hungry,” Justin retorted.
None of the others said anything. After a full minute of glaring at each other, Ashley handed Justin her half-eaten bread. He stuffed the whole piece into his mouth and chewed, his cheeks bulging like the chipmunk Sam had encountered earlier that day.
Gabriel enviously eyed the plates around him, his expression darkening when he saw all were empty.
“Dessert is yogurt-covered almonds,” Sam told them. “And then there’s dishwashing before bed.”
“What about showers?” Taylor asked.
Sam met her gaze. “You can take a dip in the creek in the morning if you like.”
“I’ll stand guard while the girls wash,” Justin volunteered. “To protect their womanly virtue.”
Gabriel’s headlamp bobbed. “Me, too.”
“I’m in.” Nick fingered his earlobe, which Sam now noticed sported a pierced hole for an earring.
Taylor snorted, whipping her focus from boy to boy. “In your dreams.” Pulling her ponytail over her shoulder, she stroked it like a cat.
Pressing her lips together, Olivia stared at her empty plate.
A small superior smile played across Ashley’s lips. Sam wondered what she was thinking.
After standing up, Sam moved behind a tree to turn on the recording function of her cell phone as she’d been instructed. She slid the phone into her jacket pocket, hoping the microphone was good enough to pick up their voices from there, and then walked back to the group. “We are camping in a beautiful place. Before Aidan passes out dessert and you all get your cleanup assignments, I want each of you to appreciate one natural element around you. I’ll start.” She switched off her headlamp and gazed up. “The stars are incredible here. Without city lights or smog, we can see the Milky Way.”
All faces swiveled toward the direction she indicated. “That’s the cloudy-looking swipe in the sky there. It’s our galaxy, which we share with billions of planets and stars.”
“Vebulaze has twin galaxies connected by a wormhole,” Gabriel informed them.
Justin set his plate on the ground in front of his crossed legs. “You do realize that’s not a real place, don’t you, Mister Lizard?”
“Master Wizard!” the pudgy boy corrected.
Throwing her hands out, Maya verbally jumped in to refocus the exercise. “I feel the cool breeze coming up from the valley. I’m glad it’s not raining.” She gestured to Nick.
The smallest boy glanced around, searching for something to comment on. “I’m glad the ground here is dry.”
Sam nodded and shifted her attention to Justin.
“I’m glad I’m not sitting on this gex pinecone.” Justin waved one in his hand. “We don’t have to use ‘em in the shitter, do we?”
“Feel free, J
ustin. The rest of us will use biodegradable TP.” Aidan raised his arms, threw back his head, and addressed the heavens. “I love the silence here. No traffic horns, no backup beepers.”
They all listened for a moment to the rustle of the breeze through the trees. Branches creaked as they rubbed together. A raven croaked its hoarse call in the distance. The song of nature.
“No tablets, no phones, no music,” Ashley murmured under her breath. “Booorrring.”
“You can sing and drum if you like.” Sam suggested the options listed in her notebook.
The kids studied her like she’d grown an extra head.
The rest of their observations—the wind was cold, the camp was dirty, the ground was hard—could be categorized more as complaints than appreciation. Olivia offered a positive note, saying the creek water tasted good. At least they all had said something, and nobody had been punched or stabbed yet. Sam decided to count it as progress.
Pulling a leather cord strung with a single bead from her left hip pocket, she continued with her first-day script. “We will be spending three weeks together. At Wilderness Quest, we have a three-step program. Right now you are all classified as Zombies.”
That got a laugh from several of them. Ashley stuck her tongue out of her mouth and held her arms stiffly in front of her as she waggled from side to side like an undead character in a movie.
“That means,” Sam added, still following her script, “that you are not in control of your destiny, that you let something or someone else push you around.”
“Hey!” Justin scowled. “Nobody pushes me around.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Let me rephrase that. Being a zombie means you allow situations and other people to push your buttons. You are not in control of your emotions or your reactions.”
The muscles along Justin’s jaws clenched. The dragon’s head tattooed on his neck looked as if smoke might snake out of its nostrils at any second.
Sam continued, “A Zombie must be accompanied at all times by a staff member. That includes when you go to the bathroom.”
“Gawd, no!”
“You’re kidding!”
“That’s gotta be, like, illegal.”
The rule was designed to prevent runaways, but Sam didn’t like it any better than the kids did. She held up a hand to cut off the remarks. “When the staff—that’s me and Maya and Aidan—all agree that you are willing to take some responsibility without being told and that you are willing to explore different possibilities, you will become a Voyager and receive this necklace.” She held it up.
“Big lurik deal,” Gabriel remarked.
“It’s not fine jewelry,” Sam agreed, pushing it back into her left pocket. “It’s a symbol of growth.”
Aidan chimed in. “Voyagers have the right to use the toilet without a staff member. Some of you will become a Voyager earlier than others. It could happen as early as tomorrow.”
“Or never. There’s not a set date like a graduation,” Maya told them. “You could stay a Zombie for the whole three weeks.”
“Finally,” Sam took control of the conversation again, “if you show that you are assuming personal responsibility, if you show that you are willing to be a leader, an explorer, a decision maker for your own life, you will become a Navigator. Navigators wear these pendants.” Feeling like an inept magician, she pulled out of her right hip pocket a beautifully carved wooden pendant of stars surrounding a compass.
She let the group pass it around, amazed when no smart-ass comments surfaced. After recovering the pendant, she pocketed it again. “Now it’s time for our second exercise. We’re going to go around the circle, and each of you will say your name and tell why you think you’re here. Remember that honesty rules at Wilderness Quest.”
She selected Gabriel to start.
“Uh, Gabriel Schmidt.” He dug his fingers into the dirt on either side of his legs. “My parents sent me. But I don’t really know why.”
Taylor leaned forward. “Honesty rules!”
Gabriel blushed and blew out a breath. He fingered the pimples beside his nose, swiping a dark streak of dirt across his face. “Okay, they don’t want me to play Vebulaze so much. But I still don’t know why.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, the whites gleaming in the flickering candlelight.
“Good enough for now, Gabriel.” Sam turned to the dark girl. “Olivia.”
The teen slouched as if the weight of the planet was on her shoulders. “My name’s Olivia, like you just said. I’m here because I skipped school.” She paused for a second, then added, “A lot.”
“And?” Sam prompted.
Pulling her knees up, Olivia folder her arms around them. “I took some pills, too.” When Ashley nodded, Olivia pointed to her.
“I’m Ash,” the short-haired girl said, “Not Ash-lee like this stupid shirt says.”
“Ass?” Justin chortled. “That’s perfect.”
She rewarded him with a vicious glare. “Ash! You better watch it, Dragon Neck, I have a switchblade.” Embarrassed as she abruptly remembered her current situation, she amended, “Had a switchblade.”
Sam’s list of kids who shouldn’t ever handle a kitchen knife was growing.
“Go ahead, Ash,” she said. “I’ll try to remember to call you that, but please forgive me if I don’t.”
The girl finger-combed her purple-streaked hair away from her forehead, making it stand straight up like a rooster’s comb. “I’m here because I took some pills too. And shot up some H.”
Oh, crap. Ashley’s mother hadn’t revealed that in the intake interview.
“And I’ve hit the road a few times.” She lifted her chin, a slight smile crossing her lips, obviously proud of being a runaway.
Sam prompted her again. “And?”
Turning her head, the girl gave her a confused look.
Sam wasn’t sure how blunt she should be. “The ... er ... customers?”
“Oh, that. Guys pay me for sex.” Ashley pretended to be fascinated by a clump of pine needles beside her right leg. “It’s no big deal. It’s good money.”
Sam hated that Ashley was using the present tense. She turned her attention to the next teen. “Nick.”
The boy screwed up his lips for a second while he decided what to say. “I’m here because... because my father thinks I’m not masculine enough.”
“That can’t be a real reason,” Justin scoffed.
Nick glared at him. “To my dad, it is. ‘Man up,’ he always says.”
“Why?” Justin leaned forward. “Are you gay or some-”
Sam cut him off with a flick of her hand. “Irrelevant.”
Olivia turned to Nick. “What about your mom?”
The fifteen-year-old stared at the ground in front of his hiking boots for a long moment. “My mom left when I was six. She took my sister with her.” When he lifted his chin, his eyes were shiny, reflecting the candlelight.
Poor kid. Sam rested her palms on her knees, guru-style. “Justin, your turn. Why are you here?”
He stroked his fingers over the dragon’s head on the side of his neck. “That’s easy. My dad killed my mom.”
The other kids expressed their shock with murmurs of “No way” and “Omigod” and quick intakes of breath.
“But that’s your parents,” Maya pointed out. “Why are you here?”
He folded his arms in front of his chest. “Because I get in fights, I guess.”
Aidan leaned toward the candlelight. “You guess?”
Justin’s gaze glided upward and he regarded the sky for a long moment as if he were counting to ten. “Whatever. So, my grands figured it was here or juvie jail.”
According to his intake file, the tattooed kid might still be headed for juvenile lockup if he didn’t do well here. Sam gestured to the last teen to talk, Taylor.
“I’m Taylor,” the girl began, rocking forward and wrapping her arms around her knees. “My stupid parents sent me here just because I want to be a model.�
�
“That can’t be a real reason,” Justin complained again. “Honesty, remember?”
Taylor scrunched up her face, showing her annoyance. “So I take a little speed now and then, and there’s no point in finishing high school, because I can be a model without that.”
The breeze had grown stronger and the kids were starting to curl up like hedgehogs, so Sam decided that was enough therapy for the first night. She handed off authority to assign the remaining kids’ chores to Aidan and Maya. Cleanup progressed quickly with most pitching in. From her tent, Sam heard all the expected expressions of disgust as the group set up the nylon screen around the box toilet in the trees, and then Sam left Maya and Aidan to supervise its use, followed by hand washing and teeth brushing and getting the six kids into their tents.
The peer counselors fielded questions about bears (could be, that’s why we hung up the food) and snakes (nope, they’d freeze up here) and wolves (a faint possibility; if we’re lucky we’ll hear some). From her tent, Sam listened to their final conversations.
Aidan: “If you’re not sleepy, you can read or write in your journals. But we arise at sunup.”
“As in dawn? No freakin’ way!” Taylor or Ashley, Sam wasn’t sure.
“Arise? We doin’ Shakespeare now? Gex that.” Justin, of course.
The breeze gusted through the forest. Something crashed in the dark woods.
“What was that?” Ashley squeaked. For all her tough demeanor, she was clearly a city kid.
Maya: “Probably a branch falling from a tree.”
“Probably?” Gabriel.
Maya again: “You each have a whistle attached to your pack. Blow it if you need help during the night.”
“Why would we need help?” Olivia.
“You probably won’t.” Maya again.
Aidan: “Everyone, put your shoes outside your tent door.”
“Why?” Nick.
Maya: “Company policy. No shoes in tents.”
“Lurik policy.” Gabriel.
“Good night, crew!” A chorus sung in harmony by Maya and Aidan.
After a while, Sam heard rustles and murmured complaints of her campers, and then the soft footpads of Maya and Aidan as they tiptoed from tent to tent. The staff always collected the kids’ shoes on the first few nights to discourage runners from vanishing into the darkness.
Backcountry Page 4
