The Long Journey to Jake Palmer (9 page)

A
re we going?”

Susie stood on the porch, hands on hips, toe tapping on the wood under her foot, a rare expression of frustration on her face. Jake eased out of his Jeep and stood next to it studying her. Some kind of fire had been lit under her, and the only way to put it out would be to do a little exploring together.

“Yes.”

He ambled toward her as she leaped off the porch and galloped toward him. Susie grabbed his arms and shook them. “I knew it, I knew you'd come through for me. This is going to be so good, Jake, I promise.”

As they walked back to the house, Andrew strolled through the open front door. “Well?”

“He's going.” She pointed at Andrew. “Didn't I tell you, sweetie?”

Andrew laughed. “How'd she convince you to go?”

“Apparently Susie isn't the only one that's convinced we're sitting on top of an ancient local mystery.”

“Really.”

Jake smiled and shook his head. “At the grocery store I ran
into a kid who told me about this lost corridor at the end of this lake. Says no one can find it, but if you ever did, it would lead to a place where whatever you wanted most in the world would be handed to you, just like yours and Susie's song says. And this kid's grandpa apparently says it's not a legend, that it's real.”

He chose not to mention the old woman.

“Are you serious?” Susie yanked down on Jake's T-shirt. “See? See?”

“Two hours.” Jake held up two fingers. “Two. Then I'm done. Headed home.”

“All you could get was two hours out of him?” Andrew laughed and kissed Susie on top of the head. “You think that's going to give you enough time to find the corridor, get to the other side, and convince Bigfoot to come back to the cabin with you?”

Susie punched Andrew and glared at Jake as the two men broke into laughter.

The next morning—which felt like seconds after Jake had closed his eyes the night before—Susie was there beside his bed, her face hovering in the darkness two feet above his.

“Let's go.”

“The idea wasn't great yesterday afternoon. It holds even less appeal now.”

“You know I'm not going to let you drop this, right?”

Jake pulled his pillow over the top of his head and spoke into it. “I suppose.”

“Wha'd you say?” Susie yanked the pillow off his face.

“I said, ‘I have to get on warm clothes.' ” He slapped his palm over his eyes. “Because it's so early! How 'bout you let me go back to sleep.”

“You promised. Two hours, you said. You'd give me two hours.”

“Was I delirious? What time is it?”

“Early.”

“How early?”

“The song this Emily wrote says the corridor is open early in the morning, ‘when the dew is still full on the green, and first slice of sun has not yet been.' So we have to go now.” She punched him in the stomach. “So get outta bed.”

“No problem, be ready in an hour. Two at the most.”

“Plus, you know Camille will go semiballistic if we're not back in time for breakfast.”

“Really good point.”

Ten minutes later, he and Susie tiptoed across the kitchen, out the back doors, and onto the deck. Dawn had just started overtaking the night sky, and gray was splashed all over the water's surface. The only movements were fish jumping to snag a fly for breakfast.

They pulled down the two kayaks from the storage shed wall, set them in the water, and slipped into them. Jake and Susie talked little on the way to the end of the lake. Susie was probably lost in the creation of a song even as they made their way across the water. Jake? His mental gymnastics were more painful.

He knew Susie didn't believe for a second there was such a thing as a lost corridor with a pot of gold at the other end. But as
she often said, “I haven't quite figured out everything in the universe and there might be one or two things left that will surprise me.” It was that part of her that hoped for a straight-from-God, legitimate miracle for him. And he loved her for it.

But while she held on to a sliver of hope, Jake was awakening to a great deal more. Not the man inside. That part was locked down behind a steel door and concrete-reinforced resolve to crush any kind of belief in a magical land. But the little boy inside was not so easily dismissed and right now would not be quiet. A place where you could get what you wanted most in the world? Just thinking about the possibility shredded his eight-year-old heart.

A corridor that could restore him to the way he was before the incident? A fantasy for books and movies. Not real life. Not even for little-boy imaginations that would take the idea and resurrect it in dreams during the night and gut-wrenching longings during the day. But Jake couldn't shut up that insistent little kid down deep inside. He never should have let Susie talk him into this.

“Hey.” Susie slapped her paddle on the lake and sent a tiny curtain of water into his face. “Wake up. You look like you just found out Santa Claus left a rock in your stocking.”

“He did.”

“Have you ever allowed yourself to consider that you're looking in the wrong stocking?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I'm just saying that maybe you need to trust that everything going on with you right now is orchestrated. There's a plan behind it. Yeah? Possible?”

“Let's just get to not finding this place so we can get back.”

“I love your enthusiasm.”

“Sorry.” Jake gritted his teeth. “It's just . . . just that . . .”

“Just that if this corridor ‘castle in the sky' is somehow on the ground, then your life could return to normal and you'd get Sienna back.”

“I don't want her back. Yeah, of course I'd like my life back, and that would mean her, too, but I can't let myself even consider the possibility. Don't you get that, Sooz?”

Susie ran her fingers through her blond tresses. “No, I don't. Because I'm not in your shoes. But I don't believe in coincidences, and I do believe every one of our circumstances is filled with a power we can't even start to comprehend, so I won't be ready to dismiss the impossible until I die. And I don't think you should either.”

Jake dug his paddle into the water and pulled ahead of Susie. She was right—of course she was right—about believing in the impossible. But she was also right about not being in his shoes. And at the moment they were squeezing tight enough to cut off his circulation.

Neither spoke again till they reached the end of the lake forty minutes later. The area seemed almost separate from the rest of the lake. The water narrowed to form a deep cove one hundred yards across. The sounds behind them faded into silence, and the birdcalls that had accompanied them until now stopped. A dense wall of cattails ran the entire length of the cove and extended to the west at least two hundred feet. Behind the cattails a grove of alder trees formed what looked like an impenetrable fortress. No wonder no one ever found this supposed corridor; you'd have to
search for weeks just to plow through the cattails, then the thick bank of trees.

“Where do we even start?” Jake scanned the cattails in front of them.

“In the dead center.”

“Why?”

“That's where they always put magical, lost corridors. No one thinks the entrance would be in the dead center. That's too obvious. So they always search on the sides where it would be harder to find, but we're smarter than that. We know what they're doing.”

“Trying to use reverse psychology on us.”

Susie nodded with a knowing look and with a swift stroke propelled herself forward.

“Did you get this from
Finding Legendary Corridors for Dummies
?”

“Yep.” Susie reached the edge of the cattails. “And the book says our entrance is going to be right here.”

But there was nothing. They spread out. Susie went right, Jake left. Took their time. Poked into the cattails with their paddles, searching for something, anything out of the ordinary. But an hour and twenty minutes later they'd reached the opposite ends of the cove with nothing to encourage their quest.

“Ready?” Jake jerked his head back toward the other end of the lake as Susie approached from the south side.

“I suppose. You?”

“Yeah, I didn't expect to find anything.” A lie. There was that infinitesimal part inside that believed. But now that sliver of his soul had to go dark.

“I'm sorry, Jake.”

“You ever buy a lottery ticket?” Jake pulled his baseball hat down lower on his head.

“Once or twice.”

“Did you think you were going to win?”

“No, not really.”

“But it was fun to pretend you might, yeah?”

Susie gave him a sad smile. “But the stakes for you are a lot higher. And pretending isn't fun.”

“It was fun being with you.” Jake dug into the water and spun his kayak in the direction of the cabin. “When we're old and dying we'll look back on this day with fondness.”

“But not till then.”

The last of Jake's hope seeped into the lake. “Nah, not till then.”

A few moments later a blue heron behind Jake cried, and he turned to look at the bird. It was the first call they'd heard since they'd entered the cove nearly two hours earlier. The bird stared at him for less than a second, with a strange look of intelligence in its eyes, then turned and took to the air, flying low, right toward the center of the cattails. The instant it passed over the reeds, a flash of light reflected off the water directly in front of them, and then onto the cattails, as if someone had a mirror and reflected the sun off the surface of the lake. He stared at the spot, but the flash didn't come again. He glanced to the east at the rising sun. Just a trick of the light. At least that's what he told himself. But the little kid inside started whispering again, saying the flash of light was much more than a trick.

And because of that annoying little boy, Jake knew he wouldn't be going home for at least a few more days.

T
hat night after everyone had filled their plates, Peter rose from his spot at the end of the dinner table and rapped his water glass with his fork. “It is time, my friends.”

He glanced at Camille and motioned at the paper and pens in front of her. She handed a notepad to each of them along with a pen.

“Time for what, you ask? No, none of you are asking, since you have already guessed we have arrived at the moment to start our annual Summer Session Questions. But for those of us new to the gathering”—he glanced at Ari—“let me give a quick explanation.”

Peter picked up the piece of paper sitting on his plate, held it in front of his chest, and pointed at the large type at the top. “As you can see, Ari, there are seven questions at the top of the paper. We'll all jot a few notes next to the questions as we eat. Then, over the rest of dinner, we'll tell each other our answers. It's an incredibly powerful way to get to know each other better, to dream with each other, and to encourage each other, to catch up on the year that was, and the year to come.

“You can answer in a sentence, a word, a paragraph, or in a
five-hundred-page dissertation, although one year Susie took that idea literally, which I suggest you don't. But—”

“I did not!” Susie laughed and threw her pen at Peter, who blocked it with his arm and joined her laughter with his own.

“Yeah, you did.” Andrew smiled and pulled Susie toward him for an extended kiss. “It's one of the ten thousand reasons I love you.”

“Get a room.” Peter laughed, then turned back to Ari. “As I was saying, answer each question however you want to. The only two rules are: you can't stand on the Fifth Amendment, and you have to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help your neck, because if you don't we'll wring the truth out of you anyway.”

Susie jabbed her finger at Peter as she looked at Ari. “That part is true.”

Ari nodded, then pointed at the polished wood stick next to Peter. It was stained with a clear finish and looked like a wand. “What is that?”

“Ah, yes! The baton.” Peter lifted the stick and twirled it in his fingers. “The person who is in the midst of answering their questions holds the baton. When they are finished they hand the baton to the person they'd like to have answer next. There is of course a rule that goes along with the baton, namely that you can't refuse the baton when it's handed to you.”

Jake picked up his sheet and stared at the questions even though he knew them by heart.

• What are you proudest of over the past twelve months?
  
• What do you regret the most over the past year?
  
• What has been the most painful?
  
• Who did you meet this past year that you'd like to get to know better?
  
• What happened that you felt the best about?
  
• What are you most looking forward to in the twelve months to come?
  
• How can we help you get there?
  

Perfect. He was so excited to talk about the torturous journey his life had been for the past year and nine months in front of a woman he barely knew. Even better was the chance to say those things in front of Camille. Sure, Peter would make Camille vow not to take his words back to Sienna, but that didn't matter. This wasn't a safe place. Not anymore.

“Jake, you with us?”

Jake looked up at Peter. “What?”

“You with us? Andrew just asked you to pass the baked potatoes. Twice.”

“Yeah, I'm here. Just thinking about the questions.” Jake glanced to his right and left for the potatoes, but they weren't there. He looked at Andrew, who had them in his hands.

“When you didn't answer I jumped in.” Susie patted him on the arm and whispered, “You'll make it through the questions, don't worry.”

Jake groaned inwardly. Not worry? Right. After everyone filled their plates with potatoes, salmon, and asparagus, Peter rapped his glass again.

“Okay. We'll get to the questions in a minute, but first, to give you a little more time to think about your answers, Camille is going to lay out the plan for the rest of the week.”

Camille shifted forward in her chair and waited till all eyes were on her. She clapped her hands once and started in. “We have ATVs on the dunes tomorrow. Play days on the water on Tuesday and Thursday. Wednesday will be spent relaxing.”

Jake tuned Camille out. Same routine as always. Wednesday night would be their annual poker tournament, and so on throughout the week.

He caught Susie's eye roll and returned it with one of his own. As he glanced at the end of the table, he caught Ari staring at him, one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. She winked at him, which brought heat to Jake's face. He picked up the last piece of french bread and immersed himself in applying a thick layer of butter.

Yeah, it would be nice if their ten days together weren't planned out like they were at seventh-grade church camp, but he had to give Camille a little credit. Her ideas were always fun.

“Well done yet again, dear.” Peter leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Anyone have any objections?”

No one did. At least out loud. Jake would have voted for a day where everyone took time for themselves.

“Excellent. All right, we'll give everyone a moment to make a few notes and then we'll begin.”

Peter turned to Jake a few minutes later and handed him the baton. “Jake? Would you do the honor of starting us off?”

“You should choose someone else to get the party started. I
think my answers would put everyone to sleep,” Jake said with a weak laugh.

“I think your answers will fascinate,” Camille said, her eyebrows raised. “Besides, you can't refuse the baton. I think you made up that rule ten years back, Jake.”

Jake grimaced and picked up the questions. “Well, okay then.” He cleared his throat and began.

“Proudest moment of the past twelve months: deciding to come here this week. Biggest regret: hibernating so successfully in my self-pity cave. What's been the most painful: finding out that Darth Vader is Luke's father. Who I met that I'd like to get to know better: I had no cave visitors other than you guys, so no one. What happened that I felt best about: still thinking about that one, honest answer. Really. What I'm looking forward to in the next twelve months: See previous answer. How can you help me get there . . .” Jake stopped staring at the questions, set them down, and glanced at everyone but Ari.

“I know I haven't been the most responsive friend for a while now. Or the most positive. But I appreciate the effort you've made. More than you know. So I guess you can help me by continuing to be exactly who you are. You all bring me life.” He pushed back from the table and stood. “Excuse me. I need to grab some fresh air.”

Jake eased around the table and out onto the deck. Awkward. Embarrassing. Far too revealing. He should have left Willow Haven as soon as he and Susie got back from the end of the lake that morning.

The moon was cresting the hills to the right, and the lake had vanquished even the hint of a breeze. To his left, stars muted
by the moon's light hovered just above the horizon. Had to still be in the midseventies. Perfect evening sandwiched between his overtoasted-bread life.

He turned and glanced back into the cabin. Muted laughter floated through the french doors, and a sizable portion of it came from Ari. Only two days of knowing these people and already she was part of the family. There was an ease to the woman mixed with a vulnerability that pulled at him like a two-ton magnet. Why couldn't Peter have asked a woman like the flower lady to come this week? Jake would have taken off his linen drawstring pants within the first day, faced the repulsion, and gotten on with life. But this? He shook his head and pressed his first three fingers hard into his forehead.

Peter glanced his direction, then pointed. Could they see him? Probably not. The darkness outside against the lights inside would prevent it. But Jake knew what would come next. Peter would soon come out, or ask Susie to go get him. Not tonight, folks. Tomorrow he'd be fine, but for the moment he needed to be alone.

Jake took the stairs down to the water, each step soft to keep the stairs from creaking. When he was halfway down he heard the french doors open and the sound of Peter's and Susie's voices above him. He stepped off the stairs and squatted in front of a large juniper.

“Where is he? He came out here.”

“Give him some space, Peter.”

“Did he go down to the lake?” His voice stopped. “Hard to see.”

The deck creaked and Jake pictured Peter leaning on the railing, scanning the stairs and the dock in the dim light.

“Come on, Peter. This wasn't the week Jake expected.”

“It's good for him.”

“Isn't that for him to decide?”

“We're here for only ten days. It's time to engage.”

“It's only day two. He needs a little time away from the madding crowd.”

“He's been basically alone for a year.”

“You know what I mean.”

“He's had enough time away from people. Besides, we're his closest friends. If he's not going to be open with us, who will he be?”

“Not all of us are his closest friends.”

“You mean Ari.”

“And Camille.”

“She won't tell Sienna anything Jake says.”

“It doesn't matter what's true, it only matters what Jake believes. And right now he believes that there's a high probability that whatever is said in Vegas won't stay in Vegas.”

“If he'd just relax about Ari, he'd be—”

“Come on back inside, champ. Give your pal some downtime.”

The conversation faded amid the sound of Peter's and Susie's footsteps on the deck and the opening of the french doors as they went back inside. He appreciated Susie's defense even though Peter would ignore her words. He eased down the rest of the stairs, then took the little path that led to the area where he'd sat with Peter the night before. He settled into the far chair and focused on the undulation of the moonlight on the water.

The most maddening thing about Peter's words was that they
were right. He did need to engage. His only friends couldn't be ones he saw just once a year. He saw Peter, yes. But not Susie or Andrew. Yes, technology made it possible to see them via video, but it wasn't the same as being physically together, and it was so easy to let weeks and months slip by with no contact. But he wasn't ready to rip off the deepest layers of his heart and have people shower him with sympathy. He didn't want sympathy; he wanted real connection.

The creaking of the stairs lifted him from his ruminations, and Jake braced himself for Peter's arrival. He squinted into the tunnel of trees and brush, but it was too dark to make out the form of his friend. Then again, it might be Susie. Her, he wouldn't mind. As long as it wasn't Camille. But of course it wasn't any of them.

“Hi, Jake. Can I join you?”

Jake lurched forward and knocked his drink onto the ground.

“I'm so sorry.” Ari stepped under the branches at the edge of the clearing and into the half circle of trees.

“No worries.” He picked up the now empty glass and set it on the armrest of his chair. “I'd had enough anyway.”

Ari set the tips of her fingers on the back of the chair farthest from Jake and repeated her question. “Are you okay with me joining you for a few minutes?”

No. It wasn't okay. Not even for a few seconds.

“Yeah, sure. Sit down.” Jake squinted at the path back to the stairs and asked a question he already knew the answer to. “You came alone?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ari eased onto the chair and perched on the edge as if ready to leave in an instant if necessary. But the relaxed tone of her voice said she would stay as long as was needed. She stared out toward the water for so long, Jake almost broke the silence. But then she sighed and turned to him.

“I figured we might be wise to have a conversation. Don't worry, it will be brief. I can tell you're not really up for getting to know me, and that's fine. But I thought I'd see if we can get rid of the rather large pink elephant crowding the house and deck up there, and the dock down here.”

“Me?” Jake poked a finger into his chest. “Ari, I promise you, I don't remember saying I didn't want to get to know you. The aliens must have taken over my body again. I hate it when they do that.”

She gave a polite smile. “You didn't have to use words.”

“Can we just say I'm Switzerland on this one?”

“Sure.” She turned back to staring out over the water and again the silence lingered.

“What's your plan for shooting the elephant?” Jake asked.

Ari laughed and it seeped into Jake's soul. An intoxicating sound.

“I don't want to shoot it, just usher it out the door.”

“Okay.”

“By the way, I didn't know either.” She scooted even closer to the edge of her chair, folded her hands, and offered a little smile. “From the way Peter described it, I thought it would be a few of his friends and me.”

“He lied to you?”

“No, he simply said that his best friends gathered every
summer and he wanted me to come because there would be an odd number this year.” Ari pushed her dark hair back over her ear. “I told him no at least five times. Felt like I'd be crashing a private party.”

“But Peter can be persuasive when he wants to be.”

“Even when he doesn't want to be.”

Jake laughed. “Quite true.”

“So I was as surprised to see you as you were to see me.”

“That helps.”

“How long has he been setting you up?” Ari said.

“Too long. Going on a year now.” Jake shook his hands, fingers curved like he wanted to throttle Peter. “How 'bout you? Does he do the same thing to you?”