Hideout Page 9

  “There’s no telling,” I said.

  We turned around and made our way back to a wider part of the creek and went swimming. This time the water was only shoulder-deep and we could almost see our feet in the depths. Davey talked about getting more lumber from the old camps and building furniture and maybe even adding another room. He said if I could get books on farming and trap making, then he could get all the food we needed. From what I’d seen, he could barely drive a nail. I wasn’t too optimistic about eating much more than what I could sneak away from home. But I’d never seen him so excited, and he made it all sound so good that I began to believe maybe we could really pull it off in some way.

  As the swamp slipped into twilight the pulsing of the frogs and thrumming of the insects rose around us. I told Davey we’d better get back and start cooking the fish. We climbed into the Bream Chaser, and Davey positioned himself on the front seat, a smile still locked on his face as his imagination continued to work.

  We cooked the fish and ate at our usual spot on the deck. The sky was so bright with stars that we could see without flashlights.

  “I forgot the spice mix,” I said.

  “I like it fine,” Davey said.

  Then I thought about the reason I didn’t have the spices or the cookies or anything else, and it made me stop chewing for a moment and fight the thought away.

  “What’s wrong?” Davey asked.

  I started chewing again. “Nothing,” I said.

  “It’s just old stuff,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Davey smiled again and picked more fish off the board. I watched him and wondered how he could just forget everything when it seemed like he had a lot more problems behind him than I did. And I thought maybe if I just knew more about it all, it would help me.

  “Will you tell me about the foster home?” I said.

  Davey stopped smiling and looked up at me. His face was totally empty of expression. I immediately regretted the question.

  “You don’t have to,” I said.

  “No,” he said, “but I will.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said.

  “Yes it does.”

  I nodded.

  “After I do, then you have to tell me why you don’t like yourself,” he said.

  I took a deep breath through my nose and nodded.

  “I never told anybody,” Davey said.

  “All right,” I said. “I won’t tell anybody else.”

  “My old foster home was in Moss Point. Dad got Slade to sneak me off in the night so we could be together again when he got out of prison.”

  “What was so bad about the foster home?”

  “My foster dad used to tell me I was like a stray dog that nobody wanted. He hurt me sometimes, but he didn’t do it so you could tell. He’d do things like press his thumbs up real hard under my armpits. I’d see his jaw get tight, like he might punch them all the way through. If I yelled, he’d press harder until I got quiet. It didn’t leave any marks for the social services lady to see.”

  “Why’d he do it?”

  “I don’t know. I tried to help him and did the best I could. He had a dog kennel, and he’d keep people’s dogs for ’em. He told everybody I was homeschooled, but I just looked after the dogs while he went out and did things. But I like dogs, so I tried to do a good job. I knew all their names and everything, even if I’d just seen ’em once. I’m good at dog names. But sometimes when he was around I’d spill some food or take too long with somethin’. He’d lose his temper real quick.”

  Davey took off his glasses and studied me.

  “You see anything wrong?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “In my eyes.”

  I shook my head.

  “I know. He got mad one day and sprayed me in the face with some air freshener. Everything’s been blurry ever since. But you can’t see anything wrong. The glasses don’t really help much.”

  “Why didn’t you tell somebody?”

  Davey shrugged. “What if the next foster home was worse?”

  “People don’t do stuff like that,” I said. “Not most people.”

  Davey slid his glasses back on. “I figure I’d rather have my own family or no family at all,” he said.

  “Geez,” I said. “That’s a lot worse than mine. I just got beat up really bad one time by these two big guys at school. And I lost my … I lost a friend.”

  “He died?”

  “No. I mean we just stopped being friends.”

  “How come?”

  “Because he made me feel bad about myself.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He just … People make fun of him, and I feel like they make fun of me because I’m friends with him. And I just don’t want it to be like that anymore.”

  “Is he sad about it?”

  “Well, I thought he was, but then he got really pissed at me. Now I don’t think he cares. I don’t think he ever did.”

  Davey studied me.

  “I think about that fight a lot. I think about this girl everybody likes. She saw it all happen.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Julia.”

  “She’s really pretty?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “She is.”

  Davey didn’t say anything. And I suddenly felt how stupid my problems must sound compared to what he’d been through.

  “So that’s all it is,” I said. “And it’s just a bunch of stuff that’s over now. That I’m trying not to think about anymore.”

  “It’s easy to forget about it out here,” Davey said. “Like a new life.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “But sometimes when I go to sleep I have the same dream, though I really don’t know if it’s the same dream or if the dream makes me think it is. So I wanna tell you about it, and if I have it again you can let me know,” Davey hesitated.

  “What?” I said.

  “I’m in my canoe paddlin’ on the river. It’s night and I’m alone and the moon is shinin’ on the water so I can see a long way in front of me and behind me. I’m paddlin’ as fast as I can because every time I turn around I think I see another canoe far away behind me. It’s just a little black speck, but I can tell they’re movin’ because I see the water turn white when they dip their paddle. It’s scary because I know there shouldn’t be anybody else out there. And I know they’re comin’ after me.”

  * * *

  That night I had my own dream: I was putting the jugs out in the creek. I was alone. For some reason Davey had left long ago and it wasn’t clear why. I decided to go home and get more supplies. When I arrived at my house Grover was on the dock with Dad. They were working together on a new boat lift. Dad had a beard, and both of them looked at me like they didn’t know me.

  “It’s me,” I said. “It’s Sam.”

  They turned away and went back to their work like Grover was his new son.

  “Remember?” I said. “You gave me this boat, Dad. The Bream Chaser.”

  “Sam doesn’t live here anymore,” Dad said over his shoulder.

  I woke with a start. I lay there for a moment, remembering where I was. Night sounds pulsed in my ears and fear pounded in my chest.

  “Sam!” I heard Davey yell.

  I leaped from my sleeping bag and rushed outside. I found him standing on the deck, staring into the darkness.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “Hear that?” he shouted. “It’s my brother, Slade!”

  22

  First I heard voices in the darkness. Then I looked down the creek and saw the silhouette of someone standing on the bow of a boat, poling toward us.

  “Slade!” Davey shouted.

  “I’m comin’!” yelled the person on the boat. “Just hold on.”

  The boat drew closer and the person on the front pulled the pole from the water and tossed it behind him, where it banged onto the hull.

  “Crap, Slade!” someone said. “Watch out,
man!”

  “Will you just shut up?” Slade replied. “I don’t see you helpin’ any.”

  The boat drifted to the dock, and Davey was already down there to help. Under the faint sky glow I studied his older brother. He had his shirt off and his chest heaved and glistened with sweat. He appeared to be about eighteen, thin and muscled, and not overly tall. He wore a braided ponytail down his back with a few strands of hair hanging over his eyes.

  Davey sat at the edge of the dock and put his feet out to catch the boat as it came to rest next to mine.

  “Where’d you get the boat?” Davey asked.

  Slade used a finger to pull the hair out of his eyes and over his ear. I noticed his face was strangely round and fleshy, like a doll’s. He didn’t look anything like Davey.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Slade said. “It’s a piece of junk we’re havin’ to use because Jesse’s motor went out on him.”

  Slade stepped onto the dock, and the two other boys with him stood up and made their way forward. Davey grabbed the bowline and wrapped it around a board, so excited that he could barely control his fingers.

  “I thought you weren’t comin’,” Davey said.

  “I almost didn’t,” Slade said. “We broke down a mile back.” He turned to the other two. “Jesse, get the beer,” he said.

  “Is this the place?” one of the boys asked.

  “No,” Slade said sarcastically. “This is just a hotel I decided to stop at. What do you think, dumbass?”

  Davey stood and looked up at his brother. Slade had his back to him, studying the camp.

  “What took you so long?” Davey said.

  Slade didn’t answer him. His hair had fallen back over his face, and he fingered it behind his ear again. “What all’d you get done?” he asked.

  “I cleaned it up and I hammered some of the loose boards,” Davey said. “I fixed the rafters and I was gonna finish the roof next, but I needed some help. I did part of it.”

  Slade kept looking the camp over.

  “Where’s Dad?” Davey asked.

  Slade hesitated. “He hasn’t made it yet,” he mumbled.

  I immediately thought it was strange how he said it. Like he didn’t want to talk about their dad for some reason. Then I realized Slade was more interested in me. He was turned back from the camp and staring at me.

  “Who is this?” he said.

  “He’s my friend,” Davey answered. “His name is Sam.”

  Slade turned and looked down at Davey. “What’d I tell you?”

  Davey hesitated. “He’s been helpin’ me,” he said. “He found me out here. And I didn’t know—”

  “Helpin’ you? Then why ain’t the roof done? You been out here for two weeks.”

  Davey looked down at the deck.

  “What happened to your shoes?” Slade said.

  “I don’t have any,” Davey mumbled.

  “What?” Slade snapped.

  “I don’t have any,” Davey said quietly. “You said you’d bring me what I needed.”

  Slade spit. “Crap,” he said.

  The other two boys came onto the dock carrying an ice cooler between them. One of them was about Slade’s size, and the other was shorter and heavier.

  Slade moved out of the way and motioned for them to pass. “Take it up there, Jesse,” he said to the thinner one. Then he turned to the heavier friend. “Fred, you got the flashlight?”

  “Yeah,” Fred said.

  “I got one,” Davey said, rushing past them.

  I backed away as Slade’s friends stepped onto the deck and set the cooler down.

  “These boards gonna hold?” Jesse asked.

  Davey came back with a light and shone it at their feet. “I put some new ones down.”

  Slade said, “Gimme the light, Fred.”

  Fred gave him a flashlight from his pocket, and Slade clicked it on and passed it over the deck. He frowned and then he shone it at the walls and up to the roof.

  “How are we supposed to stay in this place?” Jesse said. “It looks like it’s gonna collapse.”

  “We’ve been walkin’ on the dock,” Davey said nervously. “I think most of the floor’s okay.”

  “It’s been here for years,” Fred said. “It’s fine.”

  Slade took a deep breath and looked at Davey. “Just go get our sleepin’ bags and those chairs we got in the boat. You can get your friend to help.”

  I went past the three boys and joined Davey on the dock. We got into the boat and found three sleeping bags and two foldout chairs and brought them up. Jesse and Fred were each drinking a beer when they took the chairs from us and sat before the cooler. Then we continued into the camp with the sleeping bags.

  Slade was inside, shining his flashlight around. “You’ve been here two weeks and you couldn’t clean it up any better?” he said.

  Davey hung his head and didn’t respond as we stood there holding the bags. After a moment Slade put his light in my face, then swung it to Davey’s.

  “I ain’t sleepin’ on the floor,” he said. “Get your stuff off the beds and put it down here. Then put two of those bags on the bunks.”

  Davey didn’t move.

  “Come on, Davey,” I said.

  “Then go back to sleep,” Slade added.

  We got our sheets and piled them on the floor. Then we arranged two of the sleeping bags on the beds and left the third on the bottom bunk. We dragged our sheets near the kitchen counter and lay down on our backs. I heard Davey breathing hard next to me.

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  “But we did a lot,” he said.

  “We can do more in the morning.”

  “I wish Daddy were here,” he said.

  “You can find out where he is tomorrow.”

  “I thought Slade would like it,” Davey said.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was just as confused as he was.

  * * *

  I lay awake listening to Davey breathing beside me. Now I wasn’t just hot, but the floor was hard and hurt my back. The older boys stayed on the deck, drinking beer and talking quietly. After a while I needed to pee, but I didn’t want to go out there with them. Then I knew I’d never get to sleep if I didn’t go, so I got up and walked outside and stood behind them and started peeing into the marsh. I noticed they stopped talking, but I didn’t want to look back. When I was done I sensed someone behind me. I turned and saw Slade’s weird doll face inches from my own. The smell of beer and sweat fell over me, hot and putrid.

  “What are you doin’ out here?” he said in a way that scared me.

  “I had to go,” I said.

  “I mean at our camp.”

  “Just helping Davey … like he told you. That’s all.”

  “What’d he say?”

  “About what?”

  “About anything.”

  “Nothing. I mean, just that he was fixing up the camp and waiting for you and his dad.”

  “Who knows you’re out here?”

  I shook my head. “Nobody.”

  Slade studied me for what seemed like forever.

  “Nobody knows I’m out here,” I said again.

  He continued to stare at me like there was no telling what he’d do. “And we’re gonna keep it that way, right?” he finally said.

  “Sure,” I said. “Right.”

  “Where you from?”

  “Kings Bayou,” I said. “About a half hour—”

  “I know where it is,” Slade interrupted. He seemed to think about it for a moment. “What y’all been livin’ on?”

  “I’ve only been here a few times. Davey’s had some fish. I brought him some canned food. But he hasn’t been eating much.”

  “Why not?”

  “I think he was lonely.”

  Slade backed away from me and looked over the creek. “Lord,” he said.

  “What’d you expect, Slade?” Jesse said. “He’s only a kid.”

  Slade turned to him. “What am I supposed to
do about it?”

  “He’s been out here alone for two weeks,” Jesse said.

  “I told you I can handle it,” Slade snapped. “Who’s in charge of the plan here?”

  Jesse frowned and looked at his beer. “You are,” he said.

  “So don’t complain if you want any part of it.”

  Jesse shook his head.

  “What?” Slade challenged.

  “It’s just not exactly goin’ smooth, is all.”

  “Yeah, and what about your life was so smooth before?”

  “Hey,” Fred interrupted, “we’re good.”

  Slade kept staring at Jesse.

  After a moment Jesse looked up at him. “Yeah, we’re good, Slade. Relax, will you?”

  Slade continued watching him until he looked away again. Then he turned back to me. “What are you lookin’ at?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “Go back to sleep.”

  I went into the camp and lay down next to Davey. I felt myself trembling. It was too dark to see if Davey was awake or not. If he’d heard what went on outside, he wasn’t talking about it.

  * * *

  I didn’t sleep well the rest of the night. The boys stayed outside drinking beer and smoking cigarettes and talking in their low tones. I couldn’t make out all of what they were saying, but some of it was about money and a hardware store and a truck they had parked somewhere along the river.

  Eventually dawn crept over the swamp and I began to see the tops of the trees across the creek framed in the dark hole of the camp door. The boys began to move about, and I heard the cooler sloshing with ice water. Then I heard them getting into the boat. A moment later the engine started and the sound of the motor faded away down the creek.

  I lay there for a moment wondering how they’d fixed their motor all of a sudden. Then I was flooded with an awful realization. I got up and went to the door and looked out. The Bream Chaser was gone.

  23

  I rushed into the camp and stood over Davey, shouting his name.

  He turned his head and looked at me.

  “They took my boat!”

  He sat up and stared out the door like he might see it.

  “What am I going to do?” I said. “I’ve got to go home! I have to be back in time for church!”

  He stood and walked outside and looked down the creek. “Why’d they take it?”