The Long Journey to Jake Palmer (8 page)

A
t six the next morning, as Jake reached the front door and pulled it open a crack, a voice from the breakfast table jolted him. He spun to find Susie at the table sipping something steaming out of a dark red mug.

“Wow.” Jake sucked in a quick breath and popped himself in the chest. “Thanks for jump-starting my heart.”

“You're welcome.” She rose from the table and glided over to him, pink slippers moving like ice skates over the hardwood floor, and pointed at her cup, then the kitchen. “I'll get you a cup of coffee. You can join me at the table and we'll talk.”

“No thanks.”

“It's Black Fedora,” she said in a singsong voice. “Your favorite coffee in the world.”

“Tempting, but I need to finish packing my car.”

“Peter told me last night that you were thinking of leaving. I told him no way. I guess I'm wrong. I guess it's true.”

“Yeah, it is.” Jake rubbed his dark hair.

“Wow. Okay.” Susie nodded and drilled him with her eyes. “You and I only get a chance to see each other in person a few
times a year and you're leaving after less than a day? Nice move. And it looks like I wasn't even going to get a good-bye. Thanks, I love you too.”

“It's not that.” Jake shut the front door.

“Then what is it?”

“I just need to go.”

Susie tapped the right side of her face next to her eye. “I saw this coming, but I didn't think it would happen so fast.”

“Saw what coming?”

“That you already like her.”

Heat rushed into Jake's face. “Shut up, sis.”

“I have to admit, she is kind of perfect.” Susie tilted her head and scratched her chin in mock concentration. “And now that I think about it, there's a high likelihood she likes you back.”

“What part of ‘shut up' didn't I communicate properly?”

“I saw the look on your face when Peter introduced her to all of us. I watched you during dinner last night.” Susie leaned against the front door. “I've been right there for every romance you've gone through since your first one in sixth grade. You don't think I can see the signs by now? You don't think I know your type? I know you, Jacob.”

“Not as well as you think you do.”

“I saw hers too.”

“Her what?”

“Don't be stupid.” Susie took his arm and led him across the living room toward the kitchen. “Let's get you some java, then have a little conversation.”

“If you know what's going on inside me, then you also know why I have to get out of here.”

They reached the kitchen and Susie handed Jake a mug, poured him a cup of coffee, then pointed to the french doors. “Lemme get my shoes on and let's go for a little walk.”

On their way out she grabbed a folder off the kitchen table. They made their way onto the deck, then around the side of the cabin and up the long driveway. They wandered up the dirt road that meandered farther up the lake to the right. They walked a hundred yards in silence before Susie spoke.

“I have a wild thought, crazy, no logic to it whatsoever, but give it a listen, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I've been sensing something about you every time I thought about this week and the five of us being together. I even had a dream about it, which I'm not going to tell you about yet, but I think this week is about something deeper than a girl, or you avoiding this girl.”

“You had a dream.”

“Yes.” Susie picked up a large stick that lay on the side of the road and swung it like a light saber. “But that comes later. Right now I want to tell you about what I think the deeper thing is, and I want you to keep an open mind.”

“I'm a human sieve.”

“Good.” Susie chuckled, then stopped and glanced up and down the empty road. “And promise not to think I'm crazy.”

“That part is going to be a challenge. I've thought you were crazy since we were both eight. One of the things I like best.” Jake grinned.

“I'm serious. This is important.”

“Okay, bring it on. Tell me. Make me think you've lost it out here in the wilds of the Oregon backcountry.”

“I found out about something last night that confirmed my dream. I think you're here with me this week because you're the one, the only one, who can help me find this something. It's a place. And it's a place you might want to find as well.”

“That doesn't sound insane.” Jake narrowed his eyes. “Yet.”

“Here comes the crazy part.” She looked at Jake, eyes blinking, her hands rubbing up and down on her shorts.

“Ready, Coach.” Jake held up both hands like he was about to catch a football.

“I think you're supposed to help me find something at the end of this lake.”

“Oh yeah? What's that?”

Susie poked the stick in his direction. “This is the part where you don't laugh and ask if I'm crazy.”

“No laughing, unless it's out there as far, far away as Star Wars or—”

“It's farther. Way.”

“Wow. Okay, no laughing.” Jake suppressed a smile. “What's at the end of the lake?”

“A lost corridor.” Susie lifted the stick.

“A what?”

“A lost corridor. A trail, a kind of tunnel or something. A path that takes you from one place to another.”

“I know what a path is. But I've never heard of one getting lost.”

“Listen.” Susie's eyes grew intense. “Supposedly, if you can
find it, and get through it to the other side, you'll find whatever you want most in the world. It will be given to you.”

“Where did you come up with this fairy tale?”

“I didn't. I discovered it.”

“How? Where? Before I buy a ticket for Loco Land, I'd like to know who built the park.”

“I have to give all the credit to the piano man.”

“Andrew?”

“He's plunking around on the keys last night when you went down to the water to mope—”

“Hey!”

Susie winked at him and continued. “He opens up the piano bench to see if there's any music and finds this.”

She opened the folder she'd been carrying and handed him three yellowed pieces of handwritten sheet music with lyrics scrawled in a dark pencil. Jake looked for the name of the songwriter, but all he found was the name
Emily
printed in small, neat letters at the bottom of the first page.

“May I?” Susie said after a few moments. She extended her hand and Jake handed the pages back to her.

“It's a song about a lost corridor at the end of this lake that can fix the problems of anyone who finds it. At least that's my interpretation. Listen.”

Susie held the music in front of her and began to sing.

Paths are right in front us, if we have eyes to see,
Drawing us and healing us, where we need to be.
Blinded eyes and hardened hearts keep us from the race,
Water and path will take us there, if only we'd embrace.
Oh can't you see? Oh can't you see now?
Willow Lake, oh draw me now, to the tunnel at the end,
Grant to me my deepest wish, you promised this to send.

“I know, I know, not great lyrics, but still, pretty intriguing idea.” Susie shoved the paper back into the folder and frowned. “What's wrong?”

Jake stared at her, guessing his face had turned a shade lighter. The words of the song were almost the exact same words Leonard had spoken to him on the plane.

Paths are right in front of us all the time, Jake. The right ones. Ones that can take us exactly where we need to go, but they're so hard to see, so hard to see. Most people are blind. But the water and path are there, take us where we need to be, oh can't you see, can't you see, even if they're sometimes too real to embrace.

“What's wrong, Jake? You look pale.”

“That doesn't surprise me.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“It's nothing.”

“Uh-uh. You're not going to skip past this.” Susie huffed out a laugh. “You look like you saw Yoda.”

“No, just a bit of a shock. The guy that told me about this place, the cabin I mean, he said something just like the lyrics to that song.”

“See! That means you have to help.” Susie waved her light saber stick again. “We will use the ways of the forrrrrrrce to find the corridor, Luke.”

“You're serious? You want to go looking for a mystical corridor?”

“Yes.”

“You're not into that whole portal thing like Camille is, are you?”

“Come on, Jake!” Susie whacked him on the shoulder. “I'm not saying it's real, I'm just saying these kinds of legends often come from something true, then grow out of proportion over time. All I want to do is see what's there. It might be something extremely cool, and I've wanted to do a concept album forever. This could be my inspiration.”

“The land where dreams come true . . . sounds like a kids' show.”

“It's not dreams come true. I think it's more about fixing what's broken.”

“It's a great story, but you don't need me to help you look for this thing. Get Andrew to go with you.”

“I already did. He's not into exploring.”

“What about Camille?”

“Yeah, right. If I told her, she'd devote every waking moment to looking for it, plus I'm not into her taking over my little adventure.”

“I think Peter would love this.”

“You think Camille is going to let Peter gallivant off with me for half a day without him telling her exactly what he's doing? Besides, she's got every minute of his day planned out, right down to the allowable minutes for showers.”

“She's not that bad.”

Susie quirked an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she is.”

They both laughed.

“What about the new girl, what's her name?”

“Nice try, Jake. Do I have to bring up the truth of what we already discussed regarding your feelings?”

“No.”

“I'm not going to ask Ari. I want to go with you.” Susie clasped her hands together. “Will you come with me? Just for a few hours. It'll be like when we were kids.”

“I can't, and you know why.”

“No. I don't.”

“I see that look in your eye, Sooz. That crazy look that says there's a part of you deep down that believes it's more than a legend. That it could be true. Maybe it's only one percent of you, but it's there.” Jake rubbed both hands over his face. “And given my mental state, do you really think it would be good for me to dwell on the idea that there was something out there that could heal me? A comic-book version of hope isn't the best entertainment choice for me.”

“All I'm trying to do is—”

“You don't have to try to save me. You don't have to do anything. I'm fine. I'm making it. I'll climb out of this hole.”

“I'm not asking you to do it for you, I'm asking you to do it for me. I can already hear the songs in my mind. But I need the source material. Even if we don't find anything, just searching for this place will help.”

“Do you remember the time in fifth grade when you spun that story about my turtle? And I called you on it because you're so bad at lying?”

Susie sighed.

“You haven't gotten any better in the past twenty-nine years.”

“You're right. Sorry. It's just that . . .” Susie tossed the stick into the woods and turned to keep her disappointment from him. But even if he hadn't caught the look on her face, her body language was shouting the message. “You're my brother. I can't help it.”

She started back down the road to the cabin.

“Sooz?”

“Yeah?”

“Give me a few to think about it, okay? Tell you what. Instead of leaving now, I'll head to the grocery store as soon as it opens, pick up a few munchables and some Gatorade for the way home, then come back and give you an answer.”

“Just grab a few things from here.”

“You think Camille would stand for that?”

“No.”

Jake caught up to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

Susie squeezed his waist and smiled.

“But either way, I'm not staying. After we
maybe
go searching for never-never land, I'm leaving. And that maybe is like a ten-percent chance maybe.”

“Jerk.”

Jake laughed and yanked Susie in close, then rubbed his knuckles on her head. “I love you too, sis.”

J
ake arrived at the grocery store and fought a strange feeling he shouldn't go inside. It wasn't fear that swirled around him, but some other emotion he couldn't define. As if stepping through the door of Willow Lake Fresh Foods would send him on a quest he wouldn't ever return from. Right. He snorted a chuckle and reached for the door. His only quest was to get away from the lake and go home.

A sign just inside the store boasted of fresh crab and salmon straight from the coast. If he were staying he might have picked up some of each. The scent of cinnamon rolls seconds out of the oven filled his nostrils, and the sound of Hall and Oates pumping through ancient overhead speakers filled his ears. The potato chip section offered little variety, but the bananas and pears seemed fresh and he couldn't resist snagging a few old-fashioned donuts. A large Gatorade and he was set. Plenty of food to hold him over for the seven-hour drive back to Bothell.

He headed to the front of the store pushing a cart that screeched every few seconds. The front wheel seemed determined to cut loose and head for the grocery store heaven in the sky. At
the register, Jake was surprised to see a kid in his teens saunter up to the end of the checkout stand. Must be bored. Jake's items would barely fill one bag. Plus he didn't expect a town this small to have extended help.

“Okay if I put cher stuff in paper?”

“Yeah, that works fine.”

“Where are you staying?”

“How do you know I'm visiting?”

The kid winked under his thick mane of blond hair. “Small town. Everyone knows everyone but I don't know you.”

“Right.” Jake smiled. “I'm staying, or was staying, out on Willow Lake. Some friends and I rented a house.”

“Cool. I like it.” The kid cocked his head and gave a cryptic smile. “Got a little Indiana Jones in you, huh?”

“What?”

“He was the guy in that old movie
Raiders of the Lost Ark
.” The kid pointed at him and winked again. “Great flick. You should see it.”

“I've seen the film. Why do you say I'm like him?”

“I'm guessing you bumped into someone from around here and they told you about the corridor and now you've come to search for it. Right?”

“The what?” A shiver slalomed down his spine. Susie's magical corridor was appearing out of nowhere right here in the local grocery store.

“The corridor. You know. The corridor. The path. The ancient mystery everyone tries to solve.”

Jake studied the checker, but given the expression on his face, the kid might have been describing the weather. Jake had the
sensation of being looked at, so he glanced to his right and left. There. To the left, fifteen paces away, an older woman slid a tray of maple bars into a brass-colored display case. Had she been staring at him? He waited, but she appeared consumed with her work.

“Can you tell me a little more about this, um, corridor?”

The bag boy shoved Jake's food and drink into an oversized paper bag. “It's just our local legend. Like the Trees of Mystery down there in northern California, where they say you can experience the ‘supernatural magic of the redwoods' or the Oregon Vortex and the House of Mystery with its supposed force field that reverses gravity.”

“And?”

“That's it.” The kid handed Jake his bag and grinned. “All made up, but still kinda fun, you know?”

“No, I don't.” Jake didn't move. “You still haven't told me anything about this corridor.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” the kid said. “It was probably started by my grandfather's grandfather, the story, you know? My G-pa is the only one who still talks about it, and everyone is pretty tired of it. He's the only one who believes it's really real, you know? He says I'll find it someday, that I'll need to find it someday and I will if I keep looking, but I'm not going to waste my time on it, but it's still fun to pretend, you know?”

Jake stared at the checker, who shrugged. “But what's the legend?”

“Yeah, right. Geez, what's wrong with me?” The kid grinned. Big toothy smile. “There's this hidden corridor at the end of the lake that can't be found. But if you ever do find it, on the other side
of it there's this place where you'll get the thing you want most in the world, get everything fixed that's screwed up in your life, you know?”

“Did a woman in her midthirties, pretty, short blond hair, come in here yesterday and put you up to this? Give you twenty bucks, tell you what I looked like, and say that if I came in you should tell me about the corridor?”

“What? No. The story's been around for a long time, man.”

“You're sure?”

“I've lived here my whole life.” The kid motioned around the store with his arms. “Pretty sure, you know?”

“No, I don't know.” The kid apparently wasn't able to speak one sentence without saying
you know
, but it didn't bother Jake. It gave the kid a certain appeal. “What do you think is at the end of the corridor?”

“I'm not exactly a spiritual person, but you know . . . the legend says it's heaven, or Nirvana, Shangri-la, whatever you want to call it . . . that's the idea.”

“How did the legend get started?”

“G-pa says it's been going ever since people came here in the 1800s.”

“But no one other than your grandfather knows much about it? You don't know anyone who's searched for it?”

“A couple of my friends and I have gone out there a few times over the years to look for it, but that was back in seventh, eighth grade. There's nothing really there, but it was fun exploring and pretending it was real, you know?”

“Why'd you stop searching?”

“Like I said, it's a joke. A bedtime story for little kids.” The kid stared at Jake like he was an idiot. “I Googled ‘Peter Parker New York' when I was that age and found out there's a bunch of him living there. At the time I thought that proved Spider-Man was real. But I don't anymore. You think I'm still twelve?”

“Is your grandpa still alive?”

“Yep, he lives on the lake. But I wouldn't go dropping in. He doesn't like strangers.”

“Thanks, I'll keep that in mind.”

As he made his way to his Jeep, Jake tried to shrug off the coincidence of hearing about the corridor right after talking to Susie about it. He still wasn't convinced he hadn't been set up. He set the groceries in his cargo hold, shut the tailgate, and was just about to open his door when a voice stopped him.

“Stay away from the corridor, young man.”

It was the maple-bar woman, gray hair tucked up in a bun, with more than half of it spilling out in a tangled mess. She stood ten feet away, legs shoulder-width apart, arms drawn tight across her chest.

“Excuse me?”

“I've lived here a long time. Born and raised here. Same with my mom. Same with her mom.” She stared at Jake with a mix of compassion and crazy, then nodded and started to turn as if she'd explained everything.

“Why should I stay away?”

“Your new punk kid friend in the store didn't tell you about the ones who went off searching for it and never returned, did he? Didn't tell you about the ones who did return, but couldn't
ever remember their name after that till the day they died. Didn't mention the ones that claimed they'd found it, but wouldn't say any more than that and spent the rest of their days searching for it again, barely eating, barely sleeping till they wasted away to nothing.”

“Who are you?”

She pawed her hand at him. “Doesn't matter. I'm just trying to help. Take my advice or leave it, I don't care which you do, just couldn't let you go off and get yourself all disappeared or messed up in the noggin without saying my piece.”

“Who are you?” Jake repeated. “Tell me more about the corridor.”

“Bah!” The woman shuffled away so fast Jake might not have caught her even if he believed she'd tell him anything more.

As he stared at her retreating form, two thoughts struck Jake at once. First, if there had been any chance he could convince himself to turn Susie down, the chance was gone now. He wouldn't be leaving the lake today. And second, he didn't need to ask why he'd felt hesitation just before he'd stepped into the store. Stupid, asinine, unquenchable hope had shoved its ugly head out of the bottom of his soul. It was going to take a Herculean effort to shove it back underground where it belonged.