The Long Journey to Jake Palmer (13 page)

A
s he clambered back into his kayak, Jake glanced around for Leonard, but the old man wasn't at the end of the lake. No matter. Jake would find him soon enough. The wind sliding in from the northwest whipped up a sizable chop on the water but Jake pushed through it, toward Leonard's house, ignoring the burn in his arms. It'd been too long since he'd had a decent upper-body workout, and this would make up for lost time. He reached the small cove in front of Leonard's house in thirty-five minutes and peered at the property.

The house was small with a battered deck out front. A weeping willow tree just off the corner of the deck to the right held the remnants of a kid's tree house. In front of the house was a carport. An old blue truck sat under the covering along with a small red scooter with a basket on the back.

A brown garage stood ten yards from the house. A midsized trawler that was probably once a brilliant white sat next to the garage. Probably designed for ocean fishing, given the build and the two motors hanging off the back. Leonard was tinkering with one of them.

Jake slid his kayak up to the small wooden dock in front of Leonard's property and tied it off on a dinged-up cleat. He climbed onto the dock and clumped across it. Leonard didn't give any indication he'd seen Jake as he crunched across the gravel driveway that led up to the garage.

“Hey, Leonard.”

Leonard slipped a socket wrench over the boat's drain plug and gave it eight fast turns. “There. She's ready.” He spun and stared at Jake. “You liking it here? Forgot to ask that yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He stuck his fists on his hips as a smile touched the side of his mouth. “Glad you took my advice.”

“Me too.”

“Same with your friends?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Good. Nice to hear that.”

Jake eased up closer to Leonard as the man rose and wiped off his hands on a purple shop rag. “I want to ask you about the corridor.”

“You like fresh food?” Leonard pointed over Jake's shoulder and to the right.

“Can I ask you a few questions about it?”

Leonard cocked his head and squinted at Jake. “How 'bout I give you a tour of my garden.”

“Sure.”

Leonard's took up at least twenty-five square yards. As they strolled through it, Leonard pointed out his corn, chickpeas, zucchini, and cabbage. When they came to the northeast corner of the garden, Leonard bent down and squinted at Jake.

“You and your friends like cantaloupe?”

“Definitely.”

Leonard reached down, pawed at the leaves, and plucked the largest of the cantaloupes from the vine and handed it to Jake. “Best-tasting cantaloupe you'll ever sink your teeth into. Guaranteed. So much better than that cataloged store-bought crud.”

“Thank you.”

“When you finish that one, come back for another. More here than I can ever eat.”

They wandered through the rest of the garden, and Jake smiled at the lushness of what the old man had grown. When they reached the southwest corner, Jake frowned at the plant in front of them.

“You're growing pot?”

“Stupid question. What does it look like to you?” Leonard flicked his hand as if to dismiss the query. “Unless you've never seen the plant before. And I doubt that's the case.”

“I just didn't take you for a pothead.”

Leonard kicked the dirt in front of him and it landed on Jake's feet. “I'm not growing it for me, ya twit.” Leonard pointed up the hill to his left. “The guy up there planted a crop. It failed—doesn't know the first thing about growing a garden. So I told him I'd grow it for him.”

“And share in the profits.”

Leonard gave him a disgusted look. “No. I wouldn't take a dime off that skunkweed. Makes people dumb. Poison for the lungs and the brain.”

“Then why would you grow it for him?”

Leonard stared at Jake like he'd just stated that the sky was green. “I do it because he's my neighbor and he needed help.”

“I see.”

“No you don't, but doesn't matter.” Leonard turned and strolled back toward his house.

“I want to ask you a few questions about the corridor. You said—”

Leonard didn't stop, didn't turn, but spoke plenty loud enough for Jake to hear. “You think I'm deaf? Heard you the first time you asked. Enjoy the cantaloupe.”

“I found it.”

Leonard continued walking away. “Yep. I know you did. I saw it on your face when you first got here.”

“Then why won't you talk to me about it?”

“Congratulations, Jake.” Leonard didn't turn.

“More than found it. I got through, Leonard. I made it to the other side.”

Leonard whipped his frame around faster than Jake thought possible. As he lumbered toward Jake, the light in the old man's eyes grew in intensity.

“When?” As Leonard squinted at Jake, his countenance shifted from surprise to suspicion. “Don't lie to me, boy.”

“You've been there, haven't you? On the other side.”

Leonard stared toward the end of the lake. “You're a genius. You figured out the most obvious fact since man discovered water is wet. Discussion over.”

Leonard trudged back up the hill toward his house.

“What?” Jake called after him. “Are you kidding? You give me
clues, cryptic hints about how to find the corridor, then when I do, when I get to the meadow, you try to bury the subject? Why?”

The old man disappeared into his garage and Jake followed. He found Leonard standing in front of his workbench, fiddling with a broken pair of pliers, his breathing uneven. Jake stood halfway back, watching Leonard, waiting for the right moment to speak again. It was apparent the man could answer at least a few of Jake's questions, but even more obvious was that whatever answers his new friend held, they wouldn't be unearthed easily.

“You still here?” Leonard stayed facing the workbench, light from a small window casting him in silhouette.

“Yes.”

“You gonna give me a speech about not leaving till you get some answers?”

“Only if it's necessary.”

Five seconds later the pliers clunked onto the workbench. Leonard turned and strode past Jake without looking at him. Jake followed Leonard onto his deck, and they both settled into chairs that faced the lake.

“Start.” Leonard gripped the armrests of his chair hard enough to turn his fingers white. “Tell me what happened.”

Whatever Leonard's relationship with the corridor was, the mix of emotions was clearly love-hate. Likely a heavier dose of the latter.

“What are you waiting for?” Leonard barked. “I see it all over your face. You want to tell me.”

“Okay, let's start by you telling me what you see on my face.
The letdown because there's nothing on the other side? There's no healing. No getting things fixed. Nothing on the other side but a field and pond and grasses and trees.”

“Something like that.”

“You said I'd find my deepest longing.”

“Probably. Sounds like something I'd say.”

“It's just a field.”

“You already said that.”

“So why the charade? Why string me along?”

“So you didn't get it.” Leonard spoke the comment more to himself than to Jake.

“What I want most?”

Leonard wagged his finger.

“Right.” Jake jerked his head to the side in exasperation. “Stupid question. Yeah, sure. It was great. Got exactly what I wanted. All my dreams came true and I'm going to Disneyland. Want to see my legs? My stomach?”

Leonard just stared at him, his mouth open, that gap-toothed grin mocking Jake.

“I need answers.”

“Yeah?” Leonard kicked at a leaf on his deck. “And you think I can give them to you? Where'd you get a cockamamie idea like that?”

“It has to be more than a pretty little meadow.”

“Why do you say that?”

“As I stood there next to the pond, I felt healing coming. I didn't imagine it. I didn't create it. It was real.”

“From what you just said, it doesn't seem like it was real.”
Leonard waved his finger at Jake's legs. “Seems to me that's exactly what happened. You imagined. All of it.”

“I didn't imagine a corridor that didn't exist the day before. I didn't dream of it opening up with a flashing light showing me the way.”

Leonard squinted into the sun. “The lake and sun create tricks that fool the eyes, young Jake. And the imagination of desiring minds takes over from there.”

“Why are you playing games with me, Leonard? Why not tell me what you know?” Jake blew a hard breath through his teeth. “There's more on the other side of that corridor than green grass and tall trees. I see it in your eyes.”

Jake spit out the last word and jerked forward in his chair.

“How 'bout you calm yourself down and describe what happened to you in a bit more detail?” Leonard raised both eyebrows. “Hmm?”

Jake stared and slowed his breathing. The old man could slam the door on this conversation in a second, and provoking him was a good way to make that happen sooner rather than later. There was more that Leonard knew, there had to be. But Jake couldn't force it out of him.

Jake sat back in his chair and told the story from the moment he saw the first flash till he made his way back through the corridor and climbed into his kayak. Leonard's only reaction during the telling was a few slight nods and an occasional
hmm.

When Jake finished, Leonard folded his hands across his lap and said, “What is that place, Jacob?”

Jake clenched his stomach and fought down the urge to shout that this was exactly why he sat in front of Leonard at the moment, because he didn't know the answer.
Stay calm. Read the label on the bottle.
The lettering on Leonard's was clear. He didn't want to give Jake direct answers. The old man enjoyed a dance of conversation where he led with questions he likely knew the answers to.

“I'm not sure.”

“You may not be sure, but I think you have at least formed a theory.”

“I think it could be a fragment of heaven. Or Eden. Somehow it's a spot on this earth God has made that is untouched by the fall of man and creation that broke from its original design.”

Leonard nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off Jake. “Yes, that works for me.”

“Is that what it is?”

“I don't know for certain. But that's what I've always suspected.” Leonard slowly tapped the tips of his fingers together awhile before he spoke again. “But that's not the critical question. The critical question is, do you want to go back?”

Jake didn't hesitate. “Yes.”

“Why?” Leonard cocked his head and drilled Jake with his eyes. “What would you accomplish next time that didn't happen this time? What will you do to make the healing happen?”

“I don't know. But I'll keep fighting till I figure it out.”

“Ah, yes.” Leonard tapped his fingers together again. “That's good. That's the spirit you'll need.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't think your next visit will be quite so easy.”

“How do you know that? Tell me what you know about the corridor, Leonard.”

Leonard smacked the armrests of his chair twice and leaned forward. “It's been good seeing you today, Jake.”

“Answer me one more question.”

“I might.” Leonard scooted to the edge of his seat.

“Do you think if I can find my way to the other side again, that I'll be healed?”

Leonard snatched a shelled walnut out of a box that sat to the right of his chair and tossed it to Jake, then grabbed one for himself. “I suppose you've figured out this is a solo trip, right? That corridor's only wide enough for one person at a time.”

“That's why Susie and I didn't find anything a few days ago.”

“Yep.”

“If get through again, will I be healed?”

“Can't you take a hint?” Leonard spit out a bit of his walnut and glared at Jake. “Ask a different question.”

“No.”

“You're a stubborn little stallion, aren't you?”

“I think you recognize yourself.”

Leonard turned and muttered under his breath, soft enough that Jake knew the old man didn't think he'd be heard. “More than you know.”

Jake let the comment go. It was enough to realize Leonard saw himself in Jake, and he knew Leonard wouldn't explain the comment if Jake confronted him.

“How bad do you want it?” Leonard stood and folded his arms. “What's it worth to you?”

“Everything.”

“In that case, if I was betting my life on it? I'd say yes.”

It wasn't the answer Jake expected, at least not with that degree of conviction, and it fanned the ember of hope inside him that refused to be snuffed out.

“I'll see ya, Jake.”

Leonard didn't wait for Jake to respond. He ambled across his deck over to his door and stepped through it without looking back.

Jake sat on Leonard's deck and stared at the willow branches in front of him almost close enough to touch. He promised himself he'd be touching the curtain of willow branches at the end of the corridor again before this time tomorrow.

P
eter's voice boomed out of the family room inside the house later that morning, loud enough that Jake, sitting on the deck, couldn't pretend he didn't hear the summons.

“Gather now, everyone. Let's get all those willing to join me in the living room. Here we go, here we go now.”

Jake set down his book and pushed off his chair. By the time he reached his feet, Susie and Andrew had ambled over from the far corner of the deck and eased up next to him.

“I don't think this is an optional invitation,” Andrew said.

“Lucky guess,” Susie muttered.

They ambled into the living room. Andrew and Susie took the love seat next to the fireplace, Jake settled onto the couch.

“ATV day, baby!” Peter stood in the middle of the cabin's living room and did a dance that made him look like a hula dancer with epilepsy.

Camille laughed and said, “You do realize you look like a complete moron, don't you, dear?”

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, sing with me now, ‘ATV day, baby, everyone's going now, we don't mean maybe.' ”

Ari strolled into the living room and plopped down next to Jake on the couch. He tried to ignore the fact her leg touched his and she didn't move away. He pulled at his jeans and shifted a few inches to his right. If Ari noticed, she didn't show it. She pointed at Peter as she leaned toward Jake, her shoulder against his. “I've never seen him do that dance in the office.”

Susie pulled out her phone and started filming. “This is going to be viral gold.”

Peter immediately stopped, and Camille gave Susie a quick nod. “Thank you. It's the only thing that can quash his spastic gyrations.”

“You love it and you know it, Cam.” Peter grinned at his wife.

“What life would be without you, Peter, could only be imagined by sad poets,” Camille said.

Peter pointed at her and winked. “Don't you know it.”

Ari again leaned toward Jake, and their shoulders touched for the second time. “He's never like this at work.”

“Then you are a blessed woman.”

Ari laughed as Peter wagged a finger at Jake. “Hey! Only the privileged get to see Peter the Dancing Machine.”

“What's the plan, Pete?” Andrew asked.

“We'll take your van so we can all go together, if that's okay with you and Susie.”

Andrew nodded as Peter glanced at his watch, then announced, “Ten-oh-five now. We're outta here at ten fifteen.”

During the hour-and-a-half drive out to the coast, Peter kept up a steady stream of advice on how they could get the most out of their ATV adventure.

“How many times have you ridden an ATV on the dunes, dear?” Camille smirked.

“Enough.”

“Once.” Camille held up a finger. “He's gone one time and now he's an expert.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter grinned and held up his hands in defense. “It's true, I've only been once, but I've watched a lot of videos on YouTube. Besides, if Clark 2.0 is going, I gotta go.”

“Clark 2.0?” Ari said. “I thought it was just Clark.”

“It's Clark 2.0 when we're going on an adventure together.”

“I'm sure there's a story behind that.”

“No,” Jake muttered. “No story, okay, Peter?”

“Of course there's a story!” Peter laughed. “Three years ago I planned a trip for my now fourteen-year-old son. Taking him on his first backpacking trip. But two weeks before we head out, I break my arm and of course my son's heart as well. The moment I tell Jake he says, ‘I'll take him,' and he did. Five days. Gave my son an adventure he still talks about all the time. Made it epic. Pretended they were Lewis and Clark blazing a trail to the Pacific Ocean. That's when I added the 2.0.”

Jake kept his gaze fixed on the trees rushing by the van window even though he felt Ari's green eyes on him. That had been a good trip. Great, great kid. He didn't know Peter's son still talked about it. Jake couldn't stop a smile from breaking out.

After a few minutes of silence, Ari said under her breath, “I'm not sure I can do this. I had a . . . I'm really not thinking I'm up for getting out on the sand.”

Susie patted her arm. “If you haven't figured it out by now,
you're not allowed to get embarrassed in this group. We're just a bunch of misfit toys, and nothing you tell us is going to make us think less of you. So whatever deep, dark ATV secret you're hiding, you can tell us and it won't make a sandy hill of difference. Really.”

“Okay.”

“Tell, tell, tell, tell, tell.” Peter rubbed his hands together and leaned in like a dog about to get a T-bone steak.

Ari laughed and batted at him with the back of her hand.

“When I was thirteen my family rented ATVs and I had a pretty bad wipeout. I broke my ankle and I've been scared of them ever since.”

“That's it? That's the big dark secret? Come on, it has to be something worse than that.”

She smiled. “Sorry, that's it.”

“Go slow,” Andrew said. “It'll be great.”

“Well said,” Peter chimed in.

Susie tipped her head back and stared at the van's ceiling. “Men, they're so darn sensitive.”

Jake tried not to stare at Ari as they gathered outside the van, but he couldn't help himself from trying to gauge her true level of comfort. So when she caught him looking at her, he could only blame himself. And when she shuffled over to him, he had to say something.

“I bet you'll do fine.” Jake shoved his hands in his front pockets. “I'll keep an eye out for you, and if you get nervous, you know, I'll, uh, try to talk you through it.”

She smiled at him twice as long as necessary before responding. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

The thick man behind the counter had a face that looked like a petrified rock, and his voice wasn't much more appealing. “You have a reservation? 'Cause you're not getting out there if you don't. We're totally booked today.”

“Yes. It should be under Peter Danner.”

The man took hold of his computer mouse and thirty seconds later said, “Six of you, huh?”

“That's right.”

After they filled out the release forms, the man took their paperwork and turned his raspy voice to a young woman at the other end of the long counter. “I'm going to get these six out on the dunes. Handle things while I'm gone.”

The young woman let out an exasperated sigh and continued to work at her computer.

Rock Face led them outside to three rows of ATVs—at least twenty-five in each row—and pointed at the first six in the front row. “Those are yours. Keys are in 'em, gas tanks are full.”

Jake and Peter started to walk toward them when Rock Face threw up his hand. “Wait! Back off, Spanky. There's a few ground rules to cover, because even though you all signed those forms, I'm guessing none of you actually read them. Hmm?”

Rock Face raised his eyebrows to an exaggerated degree, but Jake had to admit the man was right, and a quick glance at the others confirmed the man's assumption.

“We have to cover three rules.” He held up a finger. “Rule number one. Don't roll your ATV. Lemme repeat that. Don't
roll 'em. It's bad for the machines and bad for you. Bad for your physical health and bad for your pocketbook, 'cause if your vehicle gets up on its side, you're slipping me an extra forty bucks before you leave. And don't think you'll clean out the sand and we won't notice. We will notice.”

Rock Face held up two fingers. “Rule two. Don't trust your eyes out there.”

He held up a photo, walked back and forth in front of the six of them, then smacked it three times with the back of his hand. “Whadda you see? Huh? Huh?”

“Sand,” Andrew said as he tried to stifle a laugh.

“Nothing else?”

Peter and Jake peered closer, then shook their heads and fought back a smile.

The man smacked the photo again. “I can't see anything else either, and that's how it's going to look once you're out on the dune, but let me assure you, you're looking at a ridge with a six-foot drop-off in the middle of this picture.”

Jake leaned even closer, and as he studied the photo, a razor-thin line in the center of the picture came into focus. “I can see it now.”

“Exactly my point.” Rock Face held the photo two inches from his face. “Once you focus and get up close, real close, you'll see the break. But you won't spot these till you're right on top of 'em, which means turning or stopping is a serious challenge. Keep your eyes open and the speed down and you'll be fine.”

“Third rule.” The man held up three fingers. “Have fun.”

Jake smirked at Ari. Have fun? He didn't see that requirement
coming from Mr. Personality. But Jake definitely intended to take Rock Face's advice.

After they all settled onto their machines, Susie leaned over and whispered in Jake's ear as she glanced at his legs. “You're not going to do something stupid out there, are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember the time when we were kids and you jumped your bike over—”

“Yes, Mom. I remember, thanks. And yes, I'll be careful out there.”

Susie slapped him hard on the shoulder as Jake laughed and tried to avoid a second strike.

For the next forty minutes they soared over the dunes. Jake kept an eye on Ari for the first ten minutes or so, but it was obvious whatever fear she carried from her early teens evaporated the instant she got out on the sand.

Jake brought his ATV to a stop somewhere near the center of the vast track of sand and let the joy of the moment fill him. No, he wasn't on a mountain cliff five hundred feet above a raging river, or burning up his lungs racing along a back road trying to beat his personal record in an Ironman, but he was outdoors, feeling the wind whipping against his body, riding the adrenaline shot of being alive.

A moment later, Peter and Andrew pulled up next to him. Peter gave him the same look he'd given hundreds of times over the course of their friendship, but never since the incident. It was a look of challenge, a look that shouted the games were about to begin.

“Wanna have some fun with Andrew and me?”

“Without question.”

“See that flag out there about a quarter mile away? There and back. Don't worry about the blind drops. I've checked it out twice, and as long as we stay within fifteen feet on either side of us, straight to the flag and back, we'll be slick. All fine and flat.”

“Good,” Jake said. “I'm not thinking rolling one of these would be any fun for body or wallet.”

“Agreed,” Andrew said.

“Losers buy the winner dinner?” Peter grinned.

“Deal,” Jake and Andrew said.

“We go on three.” Peter held up three fingers. “One. Two. Three!”

Jake gunned his engine, and his ATV shot forward on just his two back wheels. “Whooo-hoooo!”

A second later the front tires of his machine thumped back onto the sand and Jake leaned forward, low in his seat. The less wind resistance, the better. He would win this thing. He glanced to his right. Peter was a foot ahead of him, Andrew a foot behind.

For the next quarter mile the lead shifted back and forth every few seconds. Jake couldn't hear Peter's and Andrew's laughter over his own and the roar of the ATVs, but he knew they had to be busting a gut. This was too fun. And far too long in coming.

The flag loomed ahead and Jake maneuvered his ATV to the right. He wanted to attack the corner from a wider angle. All three of them tore into the corner less than a foot apart. The temptation was to throttle back in order to stay tight on the curve and not roll the ATV, but that would slow his machine enough for Peter
to increase his lead to a point where Jake couldn't catch him on the return trip.

As he veered to his left, Jake leaned his body out over his machine to fight the centrifugal force. He wouldn't be able to pass Peter on the inside—he was too smart to let Jake take that path—but Jake was counting on Peter to play it safe. He did. Yes.

Jake shot ahead. Once he straightened out, he pointed at Peter, then to the ground. Laughter poured out of him as the rush of victory filled his mind. Stupid to get this worked up about winning a race around a flag on ATVs, but it wasn't the winning that mattered. Pushing himself did. It was the competition. Seeing if he could do better than he expected himself to do in a way that satisfied him like nothing else, a world he hadn't feasted on for over a year and a half.

Maybe he couldn't push his body any longer, but he could push this machine, and push his brain to find the fastest way out and back.

Jake glanced back. Peter was gaining. How? He outweighed Jake by at least thirty pounds, and the machines were the same. Nah, not the same, there wasn't any rule that the shop had to tune these things identically. Simple answer. Peter's was faster. But that didn't mean he would win.