Bones On Black Spruce Mountain Page 7

  He lay back. He knew now that he and Daniel were like brothers, but he also knew, for the first time, that like all brothers, they were the same and different, together and alone.

  Despite their closeness they were both terribly alone.

  Chapter 9

  There was an awkward silence between the two boys over breakfast the next morning. Neither Seth nor Daniel wanted to resume last night’s discussion, but it still weighed heavily on their minds, so instead of talking about it, they didn’t talk at all.

  Finally Daniel said, “How’s your leg?”

  “Okay. Stiff, but it’ll be okay.”

  “You should probably take it easy this morning, don’t you think?”

  “I thought I’d just hang around here or something. What are you going to do?”

  “Maybe I’ll fish down the brook toward home, get us enough for today.”

  “Daniel, I don’t want to go back.”

  “Let’s not talk about it now. At lunch, let’s decide at lunch.” Daniel wanted Seth to come with him. In fact, he doubted he could make it alone, but he was determined not to force Seth to go.

  “Maybe we could just. go over there this afternoon, come back in time for supper, not spend the night,” Seth suggested.

  “No, I want to spend the night up there or not go at all.”

  “Why? Why do we have to do that?”

  “It just has to be that way. We’ll talk later. I’m going fishing.”

  Daniel gathered his gear together and headed down Lost Boy Brook. Something was drawing him toward that pool in the brook where he and his father had first fished together five years before.

  When he reached the pool, it was as if he had walked backward into his own past. Everything there was as it had been, the deep pool, the green swirling water, the gravel bar where they had cooked lunch.

  Daniel’s thoughts wandered back to that other time. He could see an eight-year-old boy standing on the gravel bar with a strange man, a man the boy would come to know as his father. He could see the boy stealing glances at the man’s face, wondering who he was, what they were doing here together.

  The man helped the boy up onto the big rock that jutted out into the stream, and the boy walked care fully, fearfully, along the spine of the rock toward the stream. The man helped him down into a small bowl. in the rock, a seat hollowed out by centuries of high spring water. Daniel watched the boy as he sat at the edge of the stream looking at the rushing water. The boy was smiling; so was Daniel.

  Then the boy turned to the man and the man was gone. The boy was alone and crying.

  Daniel was puzzled. That was not what had happened. It had been a good day, just as he had described it to Seth. Why then had his memory tricked him and made it seem bad? His good feelings rushed away; he felt alone, like the little boy by the brook, like the boy on the mountain. The old fury rose in his throat. He tried to choke it back, but it was no use. Then Daniel heard himself speaking aloud, the words wrenched out of him.

  “I’m alone. I’ll always be—just like that kid. I’ll al ways be an orphan. It’s too late for me too.”

  Daniel stepped up onto the rock and settled himself into the seat. He still lit. He leaned back and felt the coolness of the stone through his shirt. Daniel had only slept a few hours last night; he was tired, worn out. He felt like crying, but he was too sad and angry to cry. He closed his eyes and listened to the brook; then he fell asleep.

  In a dream Daniel saw himself standing at the edge of a flat, open field. The field was filled with people, old people, young people. Each person stood an arms length away from those around him. Everyone was reaching out, clawing at the air, calling, straining touch another, but they could not move; their feet were stuck, rooted, where they stood. The people reached, they strained, but they never touched. Slowly, here and there, a person sunk into the earth and disappeared. Slowly another rose to take his place.

  Daniel’s eyes wandered through the people. He saw their faces filled with pain, saw how, although they spent their lives trying, they never touched each other.

  Then Daniel’s eyes moved toward a road that beside the field. There was someone standing at the edge of the road, his arms folded across his chest, his face motionless. Somehow Daniel knew it was the boy from the mountain; he was watching the people in the field.

  Daniel’s eyes came close to the boy, and as they did, the boy’s face changed into Daniel’s face. For a moment Daniel watched himself standing motionless, cold as a Stone, his arms folded across his chest.

  Then Daniel heard himself crying out, “No! No! I am, not you!” As Daniel shouted, the face changed back into the boy’s face.

  Quickly Daniel turned his eyes to the people again. There was his grandfather, who had died three years ago. There was Mr. Bateau and Seth. Everyone he had ever known was there, all the people from his foster homes, the family he had run away from. Everyone was straining, reaching out to one another.

  Then Daniel’s eyes found what they had been looking for; they found his parents. His parents, like the others, stood facing each other, an arm’s length apart. They too reached Out; they too could not touch, and their faces were fearful, their hands clawed the air.

  Daniel could see himself standing beside his parents. Suddenly all motion stopped. Everyone in the field stood still and stared at Daniel as if they were waiting for something.

  Daniel felt an old fear rush through him. Then, slowly, it passed and he saw his arms unfold. He felt his feet root themselves in the earth. He saw his arms and hands begin flowing back and forth like slow fish through water. He saw his body begin to sway. Then Daniel couldn’t see himself anymore. All he could see now were the others. When that happened, everyone in the field began moving again, but now, even though they still could not touch each other, they all began to sway just like Daniel. And Daniel could see that every one was smiling.

  As Daniel’s body moved with the others, as his hands reached out, he realized he was one of them. They were all there together

  Then the field full of people was gone and all he could hear was the rush of the brook. He opened his eyes. He could feel the coolness of the stone through his shirt.

  There was a chickadee sitting on a branch above him, its head cocked quizzically to the side, staring quietly down at him. Slowly, carefully, Daniel reached into his pocket in search of bread crumbs. He took the slight handful he found and gathered them together in his palm. Then he laid his open hand gently on his thigh. Almost immediately the chickadee fluttered down and landed on the toe of Daniel’s boot. The bird hopped boldly along his leg and perched on his knee. It hesitated, then hopped directly onto his hand. Daniel could feel the small talons dent his flesh; he could feel the bird’s cold feet against his skin.

  The chickadee finished the crumbs and for a time stood calmly in Daniel’s open hand staring up into the boy’s face, then it flew away. Daniel left his hand open on his thigh. For a long time he sat awake and motionless, his eyes wide and unblinking, the way one does after a long, and restful sleep.

  Usually Daniel had trouble understanding his dreams, but this one seemed easy. He knew now that he was not alone in his loneliness. He was an orphan and there was no way he could change -the past or erase those early years. But he wasn’t the only one who was lonely. Everyone else was too. He knew Seth was lonely. He had seen him reaching out and there was Mr. Bateau, who lived alone, without his wife, in that big, empty farmhouse. Daniel knew now why he came every morning, winter and summer, down the road to Daniel’s house to gossip and visit. He under stood now why his parents took each other in their arms. But mostly what Daniel knew now was what it meant to join the people in the field.

  The distance was always there; it always would be. And Daniel realized that for him, bridging that distance would be more difficult than for most people. But he also knew now that to quit trying to give up reaching across the loneliness, to stand on the road like the boy, arms folded, hands closed, separated from the othe
rs, to stand and watch and not reach out, was to die.

  Finally he stood up and headed back to camp. He had forgotten entirely that he’d come to fish.

  Chapter 10

  When Daniel reached camp, Seth was gone The fire was down to coals and a large pot of rice stood simmering on a hot stone. Daniel built up the fire a little and put some water on to boil. Then he propped himself up against the lean-to and stared blankly through the woods.

  “Hi,” Seth said. “Look at these.”

  Seth had a pail full of blackberries in his hand.

  Daniel said. “We need a little fruit or something, especially since I didn’t get any trout.”

  “How come?”

  A sheepish grin warmed Daniel’s face. “Well, I didn’t even fish, never got to it.”

  “What’ve you been doing all morning?”

  “Ah, well, you wouldn’t . . . yes . . . yes, you would. But you better sit down. It’s going to take awhile, and it’s weird, man, it’s really weird.”

  Daniel told Seth everything he had seen in his dream, and as he talked, he felt a feeling rush through him he had never felt before. It was as if he were a bird, a hawk, who had lived his entire life in a cage and then, suddenly, one day the door was opened and the hawk flew out, away, into the free air, higher and higher, until he caught the wind and soared in great circles over the mountains. And as he soared, he cried, fierce, wild cries of sheer joy in the broad and open sky.

  Daniel finished his story and the two of them sat for a time in silence. Then Seth said, “I’ve made my decision.”

  Daniel cut him off short. “if you don’t want to go it’s okay with me; I won’t go either.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. It’s important to you.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure. I’ve already cooked the rice for the trip. Besides, I’d like to look at that spear again. I was too scared to look the first time.”

  The boys ate lunch, packed enough gear for the overnight trip, including water for tea, and headed for the mountain. They retraced the route they had taken through the storm.

  They passed the charred ruins of the spruce tree that had exploded into flames in front of them the night before. They could see where it had begun to set the forest floor afire, but the hard rain had quenched the flames before they could spread. Then they were standing again on the summit of the mountain looking down on the world.

  They descended to the ledge twenty feet below and found the - lost flashlight lying in the opening to the cave. They entered the cave immediately and crawled back to where the bones lay. All the terror they had felt the day before was gone. They were not afraid.

  “Let’s bury him. We could cover him up with stones,” Daniel suggested.

  “And let’s give him his spear,” Seth added.

  Seth crawled out of the cave and found the crude weapon lying on the ledge. He examined it carefully, trying to imagine what it must have been like in the boy’s hand.

  “I wish we could take this back with us,” Seth said.

  “I wish we could too, but it’s not ours. Let’s tuck it in here along his side.”

  The boys began covering the skeleton with stones. Carefully, gently, they mounded rocks over the bones until the bones disappeared completely, never to be seen again.

  With the burial complete, Seth and Daniel settled themselves outside the cave and built a small fire from the twigs and sticks they found lying here and there along the ledge. They ate a spare meal of plain rice and unsweetened tea. As the sun slipped down behind the mountains far to the west on the other side of Lake Champlain, deep purples and reds spread across the sky. Then it was dark.

  They unrolled their sleeping bags and climbed in. They watched the fire die to coals, heard an owl calling in the night, far below them. They saw the lights, of Daniel’s house glowing in the darkness. They slept.

  When Seth woke the next morning, Daniel’s sleeping bag was empty. Seth found Daniel sitting cross-legged on the edge of the ledge, staring down on his farm.

  Daniel had gotten up before the sun. He had watched the sun climb over the mountain, heard the ravens croaking in the dawn. He had seen his parents go to

  the barn to do chores, heard his mother calling the cows in out of the night pasture, seen the cows amble back to pasture, seen his parents return to the house for breakfast. He had heard the morning sounds of a farm, a home—his farm, his home.

  “What are you doin’, Daniel?”

  “Just sittin’.”

  Daniel stood up. He turned to Seth, stretched, and said, “Hey, man, let’s go home!”

  “All right!”

  The boys gathered their gear. Then they return to the cave opening and stoned it up: they filled it with rubble, disguised it so that no one would ever find that place again.

  By the time they got back to camp, they were famished, but they were also so eager to get home that they ate only the leftover cold rice and the remains of the sunflower seeds and raisins.

  “Should we take the camp apart?” Daniel asked.

  “Let’s leave it. I think we’ll be back. Besides, maybe somebody else would like to use it. It would make a good deer camp.”

  As the boys cleaned and packed. their gear, Daniel began pacing nervously in front of the lean-to.

  “I’ve got to tell you,” Daniel said.

  “Tell me what?”

  “I stole a bone from the boy.”

  Daniel reached into his pocket and held out a small bone from the boy’s hand.

  “God, Daniel, how could you do that!” Seth began to laugh. He reached into his pocket and held out another small bone from the boy’s hand.

  “Why, you . . .“

  “What should we do with them?” Seth asked. “Are we going to tell?”

  “No, I don’t want to,” Daniel said. “Let’s hide them. When we get home we can find a safe place for them.”

  The boys mounted their packs and stood for a moment looking at the empty camp.

  “There’s only one more thing,” Seth said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember that night before we went to the mountain? Remember that scream? What was that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was the ghost.”

  “Come on, Daniel, you know there’s no ghost up here. I think it was the panther.”

  “The what!”

  “The panther. I think there’s still a panther up here.” “Are you kidding me? Let’s get out of here! A panther! Come on!”

  Seth laughed out loud.

  The boys headed down the brook toward home.

  Chapter 11

  They left the cool woods and stepped out across the newly plowed field behind Daniel’s barn.

  They dumped their packs on Daniel’s porch and stepped in.

  “Welcome home!” Daniel’s mother said.

  Mr. Bateau was there.

  “Da babies is back! How was it? How you be?”

  “Good!” Seth said. “May I use your phone?”

  “I’ve already called. We saw you coming up through the pasture. They should be here any minute.”

  As she spoke, Seth’s family pickup truck pulled into the drive.

  “How was fishing?” Seth’s father asked. “Fishing!” Daniel exclaimed. “We’re so sick of eating trout, we never want to see another one as long as we live!”

  “Come on, now.”

  “He’s not kidding,” Seth added. “There’s a beaver pond up there so thick with trout you can walk across the water on their backs.”

  “Dat a lot a trout.” Mr. Bateau hesitated, then said, “Did you find da bones”

  “What bones?” Daniel asked.

  “You know what bones.”

  “Well, if there are any bones up there, we never found them.”

  “That’s right,” Seth added. “In fact, we never even looked for them. We climbed to the top of Black Spruce, but there’s nothing
up there but a big cliff.”

  “You mean der’s not even a cave up der?”

  “Nope.”

  “Come on, Seth, let’s go swimming.”

  The two boys bolted through the screened door and raced each other down the lane toward the pond.

  “Well, those two are growing up,” Daniel’s father said.

  “They sure are,” Seth’s mother agreed.

  Mr. Bateau stood in the corner of the kitchen, disturbed and hurt. He still believed the story. He wanted to believe it. Could the boys be right? Could he have been wrong all, these years? He knew everybody thought he was and he had never cared, but now, if ‘the boys were right . . .

  Mr. Bateau excused himself and headed out the door. As be stepped onto the porch, his eyes fell on the boys’ packs. His heart warmed to their worn and dirty, end-of-the-hike clutter. He knelt down next to them. Mr. Bateau knew these packs were the keepers of memories, and he remembered his own days as a boy in the woods.

  Slowly, absentmindedly, his hand ran over the packs. He could see a drinking cup protruding from a side pocket. He drew the cup out and held it. There w a plastic bag in the cup and in the bag a small object. It was a bone.

  Mr. Bateau took it our and rubbed it between his fingers. stood up, looked back through the screen door at the parents and smiled. He bent down to tuck the cup and bone back into the side pocket of the pack. He stood up again, the bone still in his hand. Then, abruptly, he jammed the bone into his own pocket and headed down the lane.

  As she spoke, Seth’s family pickup truck pulled into the drive.

  “How was fishing?” Seth’s father asked. “Fishing!” Daniel exclaimed. “We’re so sick of eating trout, we never want to see another one as long as we live!”