The Journey Home (10 page)

From below came a slow, splintering, cracking sound.

An image flashed across Jake's mind.
Bull, screaming as he went over the edge, arms flailing, his face a mask of terror.

Jake heard Kim's panicked yell of warning a second too late.

With a lurch like missing a step on the stairs, the ice collapsed beneath him. The freezing cold waters of the lake swallowed him up.

11
Jake floundered in waist-deep water. The sudden, screaming cold was unbelievable; it seemed to strip him of flesh, flaying him to the bone.

“You idiot!” Kim shouted from the shore. “What were you thinking?”

Jake tried to turn around. Biting steel currents sloshed at his legs. “I don't know,” he gasped.

“Can you get out by yourself?” Kim asked, fuming.

“I-I'll t-try.”

Jake tried to lift himself up onto the edge of the ice, but more of the frozen surface broke away under his weight. Acting like a human icebreaker, though, he began thrashing his way forward. Finally he managed to climb up onto thicker ice, where Kim helped pull him the last couple of yards to shore.

“We'd better get you back to the house,” Kim said urgently. “You could get sick out here. Maybe even frostbite.”

“L-lemme take my b-boots off,” said Jake. “Th-they're f-full of w-w-water.”

“Leave 'em on,” Kim said. “The breeze from the snowmobile might make your feet even colder.”

“The poles—”

“I'll come back for them later. Now
move
!”

“O-o-okay.”

As Kim helped Jake to the snowmobile, flecks of snow began to dance down from the sky.

“Great,” Kim said. “That's all we need. Get on.”

Kim fired up the snowmobile, and they raced back toward the house. The snow-laced wind sliced through Jake as he huddled behind Kim. He shivered as if a broken engine inside him were vibrating out of control.

“K-Kim, I'm sorry . . .”

“Don't talk,” she told him. “Save your breath.”

Haiwee stepped out of the house as they approached. “Why are you back so soon? What's wrong?”

“Jake fell through the ice,” Kim explained, helping him toward the door.

“Quick, get him inside.”

Inside the house, Haiwee ordered Jake to strip his soaking clothes off. Kim—to his relief—went to the kitchen to fetch hot water. He couldn't have handled her seeing him naked and shivering.

In moments he was wrapped in warm robes and blankets. The shivering still wouldn't stop.

“You're blue,” Taylor said in alarm. “Your face. It's actually blue.”

Haiwee looked him over. “He's got a mild case of hypothermia, but it's his toes I'm really worried about. Can you feel this?” she asked, reaching down and squeezing his toes.

Jake shook his head.

“Okay. No feeling in your big toe. That's not good.”

“Will he be okay?” Taylor asked, eyes wide.

“Look.” Haiwee lifted the blanket and pointed. “See how the toes are kind of yellow and gray, and are all waxy? That's frostnip. It's pretty bad, but I've seen worse. Kim,” Haiwee said, turning toward her daughter. “Fill up the—”

But Kim was already a step ahead of her mom. She carried a metal basin half-full of warm water over to where Jake sat, and set it down on the floor in front of him.

“How'd you know to do that?” Taylor asked.

“What, you think this is the first time some stupid boy has fallen through ice around here?”

Haiwee tested the water to make sure it was the right temperature. “You never want to heat up frostbitten tissues all at once,” she explained as she lifted Jake's feet and placed them into the warm tub one at a time. “Warm water, never hot. Also, don't try to warm the tissues until you can keep them warm for good.”

“Why not?” Taylor asked.

“Having the tissues thaw and then freeze again can do permanent damage.”

Sudden needles of pain speared Jake's feet. He yelled and jerked them out of the water. Haiwee gently but firmly pressed them back down. “It's going to hurt for a while. You'll just have to put up with it.”

Jake groaned.

“At least you can feel something now,” Kim said cheerily. “So quit complaining.”

“I guess we're not going to Riverton today, huh?” Taylor said.

Haiwee shook her head. “The roads are still blocked anyway. You'll have to stay another night. I'll call your parents and let them know what's happ—”

“That's okay,” Jake said, cutting her off quickly, trying not to grimace as he spoke. “I'll call home and let Mom know we're okay.”

Worry gnawed at Jake's stomach. It was almost as painful as the dull ache in his toes. He'd thought they were helping their mother by traveling back to see her, but everything was going wrong. It was taking them forever to get back to Pittsburgh. And if Haiwee found out that they were runaways, they'd never get there at all.

I'm such an idiot for falling through that ice,
Jake thought
.

Taylor spent the rest of the afternoon in a chair next to the woodstove, watching over Jake anxiously. With his
pocketknife, Taylor began whittling a small piece of firewood into what Jake guessed was meant to be a bear.

After Jake's feet had regained their full feeling, Haiwee gently dried them, placed cotton balls between his toes, and wrapped his feet in gauze, then went to chainsaw some logs outside. Kim made hot tea and brought Jake books and comics to take his mind off the pain and worry. She had a huge manga collection, including some titles he hadn't even heard of. After months with nothing to read, Jake would have been happy to read a phone directory.

“Thanks again for saving my butt,” Jake said. “I didn't know frostbite could set in so quickly.”

Kim shrugged. “Like I said, it happens more than you'd think.”

“I wouldn't even have known what to do. I probably would have jumped right into a hot shower and ended up getting my feet amputated.”

“You're such a drama llama.” Kim elbowed him in the ribs. “Anyway, you won't have to worry about things like that from now on.”

Jake set the comic aside and looked at her. “I won't? Why not?”

Kim glanced out the window to make sure her mom was still out there.

“Because,” she said, lowering her voice, “when you guys leave, I'm coming with you.”

12
“Oh no,” Jake said. “No way. Forget it.”

“Ever since you told me about your mom,” Kim said, “I've been thinking about my dad. I've made up my mind, and I'm going to go find him.”

“Do you even know where he is?” Taylor asked from his place in front of the fire.

“He's in Denver.” Kim glanced at the window again.

“Yeah, but
where
in Denver?” Jake asked.

“I'll track him down. I have his address. I can use Google.”

“But you can't just run out on your mom!” Jake said desperately.

Kim gave him an acid look. “Why not? You both ran out on yours.”

“That was different!” Taylor said.

“Yeah,” Jake picked up. “We could have been killed if we'd stayed in Pittsburgh.”

“You could have been killed? So how come it's safe to go back now?”

Because Bull's dead,
Jake thought. But he kept his mouth shut and gave Taylor a warning look so he'd do the same.

Just then Jake and Kim spotted Haiwee heading back to the house. All three of them stopped talking. Jake, though, could feel his stomach clench. Although Kim hadn't said so, he knew she could betray them at any time, just by telling her mom that they weren't really friends from the school wilderness club.

The front door opened, and after stomping three or four times on the front step, Haiwee entered and took off her boots. “Still snowing out there,” she said, shedding her thick wool coat. “I doubt that snowplow's even going to make it up here tomorrow. How are your toes, Jake?”

“They feel okay, but I don't think I'll ever play the piano with them again.”

“Cute. Let's take a look at them.”

Haiwee knelt down next to Jake's feet and carefully unwrapped the gauze. She gently squeezed them. “That hurt?”

“They kind of burn a little bit, but not too bad.”

Jake glanced across to Kim. She didn't meet his eye. Her jaw was set. The conversation they'd been having still hung in the air between them.

“I think you got lucky.” Haiwee nodded. “I can only imagine how worried your parents must be.”

“Don't worry,” Jake said. “My mom knows we're okay, and I said we'd hopefully be back tomorrow.”

Kim glared at Jake. Her eyes silently said,
You'd better not think of leaving without me.

Taylor picked up Jake's cue. “Yeah, my butt's getting numb with all this sitting around.”

“Oh, is that right? I've got a job for you after dinner, then,” Haiwee said. “Speaking of which, I'd better deal with that trout.”

When Haiwee was out of earshot, Jake whispered, “Thanks for not ratting us out.”

Kim shrugged and swept her black hair over her shoulder. “I still might. I haven't decided.”

Jake hissed “Your mom's cool. She's been really kind to us. And she loves you. She doesn't deserve this!”

“Yeah?” To Jake's amazement, Kim wiped a tear from her eye. “She's suffocating me, Jake. Just like she smothered my dad. I need to spread my wings, and you can't stop me. I won't let you.”

By the time Jake and Kim had finished cleaning up after dinner, Haiwee and Taylor were back at the table, examining
some weird wooden loops that looked like homemade fish traps.

“Remember that job I mentioned?” said Haiwee. “Take a seat.”

“Look, Jake,” Taylor enthused. “These are old snowshoes!”

Jake sat down. “Really? Oh yeah, I see. They look a little beat up.”

“They are,” said Haiwee. “My brothers and I used these when we were kids, and I've been meaning to repair them for years. Now I don't have to.”

“Why not?” Taylor asked.

Haiwee said, “Because you're going to do it for me.”

“You're kidding,” Taylor said.

“Nope. See?” she said, squeezing one of the wooden loops. “The hardwood frames are still in good shape. All we have to do is use these strips of moose hide to rebuild the webbing and bindings.”

Taylor looked at the bag of rawhide strips sitting next to the snowshoes. “Where do we even start?”

“You don't have to do it if you don't want to,” Kim said, and yawned. “She can't make you.”

“Kimama!”

“What? It's true. Even way out here there are better things to do than repair ancient snowshoes.” She flung herself onto the couch and began to leaf through the comics.

Jake coughed, picked up one of the strips, and ran it
between his fingers. “So how do we do this? Just tie the strips straight across?”

“No, you want to weave a diagonal crosshatch pattern,” Haiwee explained.

“Is that traditional or something?”

Haiwee laughed. “Not really. It's just stronger that way.”

Jake and Taylor each took one of the wooden frames, and under Haiwee's instruction began rebuilding the snowshoe webbing one strip at a time. Haiwee stopped Taylor only moments after he'd started. “Not like that, honey. You're threading the strips too tight.”

“But they need to be tight, don't they?”

Haiwee showed him where the overtight strips were buckling the frame out of shape. “You've got to see the whole picture, not just what's under your nose. And you need to work
with
the materials, not
on
them.”

Jake thought he understood. “So it's like going with nature and not fighting it?”

“You can't fight nature,” Kim called from the couch.

As Jake worked, he enjoyed the feel of the moose hide strips in his hands, not to mention the satisfaction of learning a new skill. Weaving the strips in and out was calming, like meditation.