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CHAPTER NINE
REN
* * * * * *
2000
THAT FIRST NIGHT, I travelled as far and as long as I could.
Della didn’t grumble or squirm, no matter how many times I stumbled over tree roots that I couldn’t see with her on my chest or ducked under low-lying branches.
Ru
And it didn’t make sense.
Because I had nowhere to go, no guarantee of survival, and a baby reliant on me for every tiny thing.
I ought to feel terrified and trapped, not the exact opposite.
The same river we’d followed before welcomed us back, and I fell into step with the gurgle and ripple, occasionally tripping over slippery bracken but not wanting to travel too far from its banks.
I followed it for hours, silent and serious, delving deeper and deeper into the forest.
Digging my hand into my new cargo trouser pockets, I pulled out the last thing I’d grabbed on the way out from the camping store.
A compass.
I knew enough from farming that the sun was my biggest ally and greatest foe. The only letters Mr. Mclary thought to teach me were N, S, E, W for the four corners of the world where rain lived one day and drought lived the next.
Back at the farmhouse tacked to his wall in the kitchen, hung a large map with weird squiggly lines over hills and valleys. He’d caught me looking at it one day, and instead of cuffing me around the head and kicking me from the kitchen, he’d clasped my shoulder with dirty fingers and gloated. “That’s mine, boy. Every boundary and treeline from here until as far north as Dead Goat Creek is all mine.”
I’d done my best to study how to read such a magical piece of paper that showed every piece of property he owned, but the scale didn’t make sense and the scratchings of words and numbers hadn’t been taught to someone like me.
When I’d failed to respond in whatever way he expected me to, he’d twisted my ear, dragged me past his wife feeding Della in her booster chair, then threw me out, not caring I tumbled down the stairs to the dusty ground below. “The house isn’t for the likes of you, boy. Boys stay in the barn.” He slammed the door, making it rattle on its well-abused hinges.
I blinked aside old memories and focused on the compass. The needle pointed Northwest.
I didn’t know what existed in that direction but it was the opposite of Southeast where Mclary’s farm was.
Stopping in the middle of the forest with darkness descending rapidly and roosting birds all around us, I shoved the compass back into my pocket. “I’m tired. We’ll sleep here.”
Della’s head raised from resting against my chest, her blue eyes bright and intelligent. Her little legs kicked and her hands raised, complete with filthy ribbon wafting in the air, as if to help me lift her out of the sheet sling.
“Wait.” Stiffness already cramped my muscles now that I’d given my body permission to quit moving. It was always that way after a long day of labour. Keep pushing, keep moving, and the pain couldn’t find you.
Stop…and it leapt on you like a herd of cattle.
I winced as I arched my back and let the backpack slip to the ground.
Hissing under my breath, I massaged the back of my neck where the sheet knot had dug into me for long hours. Fumbling with the tight bow, I gave up and bent myself enough to unhook it over my head.
Della slipped backward without the support.
I scowled. “Hold onto me. If you don’t, you’ll fall.”
Her lips pursed as if trying to understand but didn’t do what I asked.
“Ugh.” Wrapping my tired arm around her, I held her tight as I undid the knot at my waist and the sheet tumbled down my front. Bending, I placed her on top of it, finally ridding my body of the weight it’d been carrying for so long.
It was sheer heaven.
All I wanted to do was leap into the river and fall asleep under the stars, but I had responsibilities now. And I had to do them before all my energy deserted me.
I was used to working on dregs. I was strong and stubborn and been taught by the land that to achieve anything you had to work and work hard.
This was no different.
For the next hour, I set aside the things we’d need from my backpack, fumbled around as I figured out how to erect the tent for the first time, and spread out the one sleeping bag inside it.
Once shelter was finished, I grabbed Della, stripped her of the boy clothes she’d been dressed in, stripped myself until we were both naked as furless animals, and carried her into the river. I couldn’t let her go as the current was too swift, but I managed to at least rinse off the sweat from a long day.
Once we were semi-clean, I pinched her ribbon and used sand from the bottom to scrub it the best I could. She pouted the entire time I handled it as if not trusting me with her prized possession.
By the time we’d dried off, dressed in clean clothes, and eaten di
I curled up beside her.
The tent went unused that night.
* * * * *
We stayed there for three nights, getting used to the equipment I’d stolen, sunbaking in the dappling light through the leaves, eating squished bananas and apples, and growing fat on melted chocolate bars and deliciously salted pretzels.
I’d never eaten so well or had time off just to do nothing.
I didn’t care we went through our rations crazy fast.
I didn’t care we should probably keep moving.
This was every birthday that I’d never had, and I wanted it to last forever.
Della seemed to go through a growth spurt just like the lambs at Mclary’s. One night, the baby sheep were all legs and ski
Della did the same thing.
The colour returned to her cheeks with regular food, and the sun browned the rest of her thanks to us barely wearing any clothes.
We learned to share the sleeping bag, clean our teeth with one brush, and scrub our clothes with the single bar of soap.
So many chores just to stay healthy and alive, but everything was so much more rewarding than fighting for scraps after a never-ending day raking, baling, feeding, milking, tending, mending…an eternal list of tasks.
In the evenings, we listened side by side to night crawlers and creatures and stayed dry and warm as a rain shower found us on the second night. The splatter of droplets on the tent lulled us to sleep instead of keeping us awake and shivering under a tree.
Life had never been so good.
And on the third night, when my mind was busy with plans of finding a new paradise, Della wriggled upright in the sleeping bag, pointed at my nose, and said, “Boy.”