Breaking Point (4 page)

And that would make it easier to escape with Brianna when the time came.

Philip was about the most unhappy little kid I'd ever seen. I hadn't spent much time around younger kids and found it hard at first to even get him talking. We both went through our list of questions giving one- or two-word answers and rolling our eyes about the whole thing. Chris and the other workers hung back at a distance, but they were watching us, so I played along with things.

Philip and I were sitting on a wooden picnic table a bit off from the others. When the questions were over, he just sat there looking off at the water. His face said it all. He was hurt and he was angry, and for a minute I was speechless. Then I realized what I was feeling. I was feeling sorry for this poor little slob. Philip was a bigger walking disaster than I was.

I cleared my throat. “You ever want any lessons in all the wrong things to do in life, just ask me. I'm the king of bad decisions.”

He blinked but didn't turn to look at me. He stared out at the water like he wasn't even there.

“So give me something to work with here. I need to look like I'm good at this…whatever
this
is.”

He turned then and looked straight at me. “What the hell do you want me to do?” Philip snapped. “I hate this shit. I hate being here. And I hate my life. Work with that, asshole.”

It caught me off guard. The little snot had quite the mouth on him. At first I was pissed. Who the hell was he to talk to me like that? But instead of giving the kid my own real thoughts about him or this whole charade, I laughed. “Why don't you tell me what you really feel?” I asked sarcastically.

That got just the slightest hint of a smile.

“You do know I'm here because I broke a couple of laws, right?” I asked.

“Yeah. Duh. And you think I'm here as a reward for being good?”

“Dunno. What'd you do?”

“Accidentally stabbed a kid at school?”

“Accidentally?”

“It was his knife. He was coming at me.”

“But you took the rap?” I asked.

“I took the knife. And we were fighting. Shit happens. It wasn't like I was trying to kill him or anything.”

“Is that why you're so unhappy?”

“No. I'm used to getting blamed for things that aren't my fault.”

“Then what is it?”

He looked straight at me again, now seeming older. Much older. “Hey, Cameron, or whatever your freaking name is, let's pretend we like each other so we can get through this. So I can go home at the end of the day, and you can look like you did your good deed for the day and go back to your bunk bed. But don't try to be my big brother.”

Then he looked away.

“Deal,” I said.

“Great.” And he smiled the fakest smile I'd ever seen.

Things didn't improve much after that, but we did get through the day. I showed him the kayaks and let him sit in one on dry land. We had lunch together, and I showed him my room. We made some small talk, but he never lost the attitude. I got really pissed off at him a few times but held back from saying anything nasty.

And when he got back on the bus, he didn't bother to say goodbye.

When he was gone, Chris came over to me. “How'd it go?”

“Great. He's got a few issues, but deep down I think he's a good kid.”

“He was the toughest one of the lot. I assigned him to you. You know why?”

“Why?”

“'Cause he reminded me of you,” Chris said. “All that hurt. And attitude.”

“I think maybe we bonded,” I lied to him, reminding myself this was all about appearances and looking like I was dependable.

“You're not a very good liar,” he said. “But I give you credit for making it through the day without smacking him. That's a step in the right direction.” And Chris walked off, leaving me sitting there thinking about Philip, feeling truly sorry for him and wishing I had done a better job of making friends with the kid. And then suddenly I realized I wasn't feeling sorry for him. I was feeling sorry for me.

Chapter Eight

So after my shining performance as a mentor for a young hoodlum, I was thinking I could get away with just about anything. I'd been able to sneak down the hall and talk to Brianna for four nights in a row. But on her last night in isolation, things were different.

Chris was bunking in the hall. He said it was because the screen was out in his room and there were too many mosquitoes, and he said he couldn't sleep with the window closed. But maybe he'd heard rumors about me and Brianna.

I was pretty worried, because Brianna had been getting more and more edgy. In fact, I was scared that she would make a run for it as soon as she was let out of isolation. To be honest, the girl was getting crazier. But she had me hooked. I didn't want to lose her. And I had a feeling that if she ran on her own, she would be in big trouble. I'm not trying to say I'm some knight in shining armor or anything. I'm nobody's hero, but I think she needed me.

When I saw her the morning of her release, she looked frantic. I knew that she'd been in a comfortable room and she'd had food and she'd been safe. This whole summer camp for bad kids was a piece of cake compared to the real institutions. But isolation is still isolation. And she was probably pissed at me for not showing up last night as promised.

I caught her eye at breakfast, but she looked away. Damn. I knew I couldn't walk over to her right then. Not here and not now. Gerard saw me looking. “She's hot,” he said. “Looks like she's lost interest in you. Maybe it's my turn.”

I gave Gerard a look that could have burned him to the ground, but I didn't say anything. If I did something stupid, I'd end up in isolation for five days. And then what? I looked back at Brianna and silently mouthed the word, “Sorry.” I think she understood, but she quickly looked away again.

Later that morning, we were all outside getting lectured by Chris (who seemed to always know everything about everything) on wilderness survival. I wasn't really paying attention. I heard the part about how rough kayaking can get if the waves come up or if there is strong wind. Then he mentioned that we probably wouldn't be in the water for the next week. A tropical storm, possibly a hurricane, was headed straight for Nova Scotia. Kids sounded pretty disappointed.

Then he said we'd take a break, and I cautiously walked over to where Brianna sat.

“Why didn't you come talk to me last night?” she asked. She looked both hurt and angry.

“I couldn't.”

“Why not?”

I explained about Chris sleeping in the hall.

“I was scared. I needed you. I hated being alone. I can never, ever do that again.”

I knew where this was headed. “I know,” I said. “You all right?”

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Here?”

“Somewhere.”

“Let me say something to Chris. I'll tell him you aren't feeling well and I'm just going to walk you in to sit down in the dining hall. I think he'll let me.” I explained about Philip and my fake mentor role. Mr. Responsible. Mr. Dependable. Mr. Role Model.

Chris was totally cool about it. I knew I had just moved to another level with him. I knew he thought this camp thing was working—at least for me. But he didn't have a clue.

Inside, we sat by ourselves at a table. There were two counselors in with the kitchen staff. They could see us, but they left us alone.

“I'm leaving tonight,” she said. I knew that was coming.

“Then I'm coming with you. Montreal, right?”

“Yeah. All we have to do is get to my cousin and she'll drive us.”

I felt a chill go down my spine. I didn't want to do this. But if I didn't, I'd lose her.

“I don't think going by kayak is a good idea,” I said.

“It's the only way. They'd find us if we went by road, and I don't think I could find my way through the woods. All we have to do is go east. I figure two or three days of straight paddling and we'll be at Port Joseph.”

“How are we going to be sure which way is east?” I asked.

“There's a compass built into some of the kayaks.”

“Is that like a GPS?”

“It's the old way. I know how to use one.”

“But didn't you hear Chris? There's a tropical storm headed this way. Big winds, big waves.”

“Look outside. It's beautiful. I say it's tonight or never.”

Her mind was made up. I wanted to tell her she was crazy. I wanted to say we'll never make it. I wanted to say we should just be patient, be good, make it through the rest of our time here, and then we'd be back in the city. But I knew if we did that, she would split and I'd never see her again. Besides, I knew she wouldn't stay here. She was like a trapped animal.

I also knew that if Chris or any of them were sleeping in the hallway, we'd never get out without being seen.

“Are you in or out?” It was an ultimatum. She was looking straight at me. Her face was close to mine. Although her tone was tough, her look was soft. She was beautiful.

“I love you,” I said. And I think she got the point.

Chapter Nine

I didn't speak to her again all that day. We agreed to that. And we agreed to meet at the kayak shed down by the water at eleven o'clock at night. I had a bad feeling in my gut. I didn't want to admit I was scared. I didn't trust kayaks or the inlet or a million things that could go wrong out there. But what else could I do?

I lay in my bunk breathing raggedly, loud enough for Gerard to ask me to shut up. At ten minutes to eleven by my watch, I got up to pretend I was going to take a leak. The hallway was clear. Someone had fixed the screen in Chris's room, I reckoned. There was no sign of Brianna, but I knew she'd be there. Or at least, I knew she would leave.

I crept low along the hall. One of the other counselors had his room right by the entrance. His door was open, but a tv was on inside and maybe he was asleep. Who knows? All I knew was that the door to the outside was unlocked. Had Brianna already left? It swung open without a sound, and I closed it just as silently.

Outside, it was very dark. I realized we should be waiting for first light in the morning. Leaving in the dark was insane. Everything about this was insane. We had no maps. No supplies. I had the jacket on my back, that's all.

I ran for the boathouse and slipped inside, where it was even darker than outside. I waited for my eyes to adjust. Then I saw her. She had found a pack and was shoving things into it.

“Brianna.”

“The weather's good,” she said. “No wind. No waves. I've got a few things that were around here. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Me too,” I lied. My eyes were a little adjusted now. I needed to get my wits about me and make sure we did this right. I reached for the life jackets and tossed her one.

She tossed it back. “I don't think we need these things. You can swim, right?”

Well, the answer would have been, “barely.” But it wasn't about swimming. It was about surviving in that cold North Atlantic water if we dumped. “Brianna, you have to wear one.” My tone was harsh, insistent.

There was a pause, and I caught a glimpse of her face. I thought she was about to tell me to get lost. Instead she said, rather sarcastically, “Fine.” And she put on the life jacket and snapped the clasps. I did the same. I knew we were carving out new territory here. I'd been reckless all my life, and now I'd hitched myself to someone more reckless than me. Great.

“This one,” she said, lifting a red kayak from the rack. “Grab that end. Walk it to the water.” I took the orders this time. Then we went back for a second one that was orange. Lift, haul. We went back for the pack, paddles and spray skirts.

On the shore of the inlet, not a breath of air was moving. You could hear bugs, and tiny waves lapping, and there was now a quarter moon giving us a little light. We got into the kayaks in shallow water, and I waited as she pushed off.

I almost didn't go. I almost chickened out.

But suddenly she was out there, a dark silhouette in a long narrow boat, already moving away quickly on the dark but sparkling water. And my heart sank. I had no choice. I pushed off the shallow bottom with my paddle, heard the hull of the kayak scraping over sand and pebbles, and then I was free of land.

I wobbled a few times but paddled harder until my speed made me more stable. It took some serious effort to catch up with her. She was a strong paddler. When I came up alongside her boat, I could see the determination in her face.

“We did it,” she said, smiling. “We're free. I'm never, ever gonna let anyone put me through that again.”

“How do you know we're headed the right way?”

“The compass, remember?” she said, pointing to where it sat mounted on the front deck of her kayak. “Trust me. Besides, I know the first part of this. Remember the night I came to you in your tent? We're headed there first. But we shouldn't stay there. We might be found. There's an island just past that called Ram Island, and we can tuck into a tiny cove. Then leave early in the morning.”

We heard things moving in the waters around us. Seals, I was hoping. But I didn't know. I had grown up in a city. What did I know about creatures out in the sea at night? All I could do was paddle my brains out to keep up with Brianna. The quarter moon was just barely large enough so that we could see. If anything went wrong… well, I just didn't even want to go there. All I knew was that there was no turning back.

It must have been well after midnight when we rounded the island where we had camped. In another twenty minutes we came in close to Ram Island on the landward side, and the world went wonderfully silent. I suddenly felt totally ecstatic. We were making it. There was the cove, just as she had said, and some sand. We slid our kayaks up onto the pocket beach. I jumped out first and pulled her boat farther up on shore.