Overheard in a Dream (51 page)

The two children trotted off while James put things away, pausing to pick all the candy wrappers out of Lars’s Jeep. They couldn’t have been gone for more than five minutes before he heard Becky yelling. Her expression panicky, she came running back down the path.

“Daddy! Daddy! Come quick!”

James dashed over. “What’s wrong?”

“You got to come help Mikey. He’s got stuck.”

“Stuck? Where? How did that happen?”

“Well, I don’t know. I was going to the bathroom.” She grabbed James’s hand to pull him faster. “But when I came out he’d gone down this path on the other side of the toilet building and now he can’t get back up again.”

When James reached the toilets, he saw no path anywhere near.

“No, over here. This way. Down there.”

Below the viewpoint railing the ground fell away into a bizarre wonderland of spires and gullies all formed from the same pale, crumbly, unstable soil. Although it might have been nothing more than the eroded course of winter run-off, a path of sorts appeared to begin near the drainage ditch along side the guard rail. It dropped almost straight down the slope and then snaked out of sight around a massive columnar
pinnacle. About thirty feet down Mikey was on all fours, clinging to a leafless bit of brush.

“Oh holy
Jesus
, Becky, how did he get down there? Why weren’t you watching him? That’s what I sent you along for.”

“I was going to the bathroom, Dad. I couldn’t watch him and do that at the same time.”

“Mikey? Mikey, are you all right?” James could tell he was crying. “Just stay there. Don’t try to move. Daddy will get you.”

But how? James glanced around him. There was not another soul anywhere. He had seen absolutely no one since driving away from the park ranger in the booth at the entrance to the park. He pulled out his mobile phone. No signal.

James gazed across the vast panorama. The floor of the basin was literally hundreds of feet below.

Tentatively, he slipped through the guard railing. The path was very steep and the soil alarmingly loose. Heights had never been his thing and he had no delusions about being a wilderness man, so the thumping racket his heart made in his ears was a definite hindrance. Inch by inch, James managed to lower himself down to where his son was clinging.

“You’re okay, buddy. Just hold on. Don’t move.”

Mikey was sobbing.

Reaching an arm out, James gripped the fabric of Mikey’s sweatshirt and pulled him up. “Got you. There we are. All safe. Daddy’s got you.”

“I haven’t got my shoe,” Mikey cried.

“What?”

“We were playing and Becky threw it down there. See? And I can’t get it.” He pointed down the gully.

James steadied himself on the path. “Mikey, you should
never
have tried to get it by yourself.”

Mikey sobbed anew.

Craning to look down the steep-sided gorge, James saw Mikey’s other shoe lying far down in the dust. His knees went to jelly. “We’re just going to leave your shoe there, Mikey. We’ve actually got other problems to worry about. Daddy’s a little concerned about how crumbly the soil is. I’m not sure we can get back up the way we just came down without slipping.”

Mikey cried harder.

“Listen, sport, we’re having an adventure here, aren’t we? Think what you can tell your friends when you get home. Yes? Exciting, huh? So here’s what we’re going to do. You stay right here and keep holding onto this bit of bush. Let Daddy get by you. I’m just going to look around this sticky-out bit of rock and see where the path goes, because maybe we can get back up easier on the other side. Don’t move. Okay?”

Mikey nodded fervently

James edged his way along until he cleared the knobby pinnacle. From there, the path broadened slightly. He slipped around a second corner.

Startled, he halted abruptly.

Ahead of him, the path dead-ended on a ledge of rock perhaps five feet wide. Beneath the ledge, the wind-ravaged land dropped away precipitously to the basin floor hundreds of feet below. The opposite end of the ledge met the upward spiral of an adjacent pinnacle of soil. At that juncture, three ponderosa pines grew, their green, bushy-needled lushness an unexpected contrast to the desolate hillside.

Three trees on the moon
.

“
A
xsnother
picnic?” Becky said in amazement as James loaded them into the car.

“What about having Morgana along?” James said and started the engine. “You were exchanging emails last night. Wouldn’t it be nice to see her?”

“You want to have another picnic
tonight
?” Becky asked suspiciously.

“I’ll phone Morgana’s mum and ask,” James said.

“Why do you want a picnic at night?” Mikey asked.

“No, not at night. Just in the evening. At dusk. We could make a fire in one of the campfire pits and roast marshmallows. That would be fun.”

“When am I going to get new shoes?” Mikey asked. “’Cause I can’t go around with just one.”

“Daddy, I’m not sure I want to do this,” Becky said. “One picnic is enough in a day. I don’t think I want a picnic for dinner too.”

“We’re going to invite Morgana’s brother too. You haven’t met him. He’s quite a big boy. He’s going to be ten soon. We’ll invite both of them along.”

Becky touched his arm. “Daddy, are you listening to me? I said I’m not sure I want to.”

James looked over. “Well, I’m sorry, Becky, because we’re going to do it. I know we’ve already done a lot of things today that I’ve wanted to do, and you’ve been very good about it and I’m proud of you, but hang in there with me a little longer, okay? I want to do this one more thing.”

“Why, Daddy?” she asked.

“I just do. And tomorrow we’ll do anything you guys want, all right?” James grinned at her.

“Can we watch
Spiderman
again?” Mikey cried out from the back seat. “’Cause that’s what I want to do!”

“Yeah, cowboy, anything you want,” James replied.

From the tone of Laura’s voice, it was obvious she was as bewildered by this evening picnic idea as Becky was. “And Conor?” she asked quizzically. “You want Conor to come as well?”

James had always been a stickler for honesty because it was such a basic component of trust and trust was so essential to his work. Consequently, he’d always assumed he’d be the sort of person who would fail miserably at deception, if only because he’d had so little practice. But he found it surprisingly easy to sound as if this were the most natural thing to be doing on the South Dakota plains in March. A cookout, he explained: hot dogs on sticks, fire-roasted potatoes, marshmallows. And the more the merrier, so, of course, he wanted Conor to join them. James kept a studied levity in his voice, hoping that after all the minor breaches of professionalism their relationship had enjoyed, Laura wouldn’t think too carefully about this one.

James had never been out to the McLachlan ranch before. After the wastes of the Badlands, the rich, forested reaches of the Black Hills were a stark contrast. The ranch buildings lay in a secluded valley of open grassland protected by a ponderosa forest. The road to the house wended its way through a series of wooden-fenced corrals and neatly kept barns.

When the Jeep pulled up, Morgana came running out of the front door. “Hi! Hi!” she cried. Laura appeared in the doorway, herding Conor gently in front of her.

“Guess what!” Becky said to Morgana, as she leaped out of the car. “This is going to be our
second
picnic today. We had a picnic lunch too.”

“See my new shoes?” Mikey piped up.

Conor clutched his toy cat closely against his chest.

“Why don’t you get in the car,” James said, extending a friendly hand to him. “You can sit up front with me.” He opened the passenger door to the Jeep.

“You’re being very brave to take this whole crowd on an outing,” Laura said in a gently mocking voice.

“We’re going to the Badlands,” Becky chimed in.

“Come on, Becky. We haven’t got much time. Get in the car,” James said.

Laura frowned. “The Badlands? That’s a long way. There are some excellent campgrounds very nearby, James. I can give you a map.”

“Daddy
likes
the Badlands,” Becky said. “Don’t you, Daddy? Because, you know what? We’ve already been out there once today, and Daddy likes it so much there he wants to go again.”

Laura’s brow furrowed more deeply.

James grinned sheepishly. “Yes, silly Daddy, eh? But it’s very beautiful in the evening. So come
on
, Becky, get in the car.”

“Yeah, look at my new shoes!” Mikey said cheerfully and lifted a foot up. “Becky threw one of my other ones down the hillside at the Badlands and Daddy couldn’t reach it, so he had to buy me new ones. These got flashers on the bottom.”

“Becky, Mikey, get
in
the car.
Now.
”

Laura caught James’s eye. He looked away, leaning in to check the kids’ seatbelts. Then he bid a cheery goodbye, climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine and left.

“Things are going to be a little different than we’d planned,” James said, as they approached the interstate turn-off for the Badlands. “By the time we go to the supermarket and get stuff for a cookout, there won’t be enough time to make a fire and cook it before it gets too dark.”

“But you
said
…” Mikey cried.

“I know and I’m sorry. I made a mistake about how much time driving to Morgana’s house would take. So instead, we’re going to stop at the Dairy Queen and get hamburgers.”

There was a moment’s silence in the back and then Becky leaned forward until James could feel her breath on his neck. “Daddy?” she whispered.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can you tell me yet what’s going on?”

Conor appeared much less normal at the Dairy Queen than he did in the playroom. He wouldn’t speak at all and he wouldn’t make eye contact. He only ate his hamburger after pulling it entirely apart and separating the food into little piles. He then consumed each item individually, starting with the
patty of meat, then the ketchup-covered pickles, then the bun. When not occupied with eating, he faintly flapped the fingers of his right hand over his food. Kitty remained tightly clutched to Conor’s chest throughout the meal.

They were soon all in the car again, speeding out over the prairie towards the Badlands. The Black Hills, far distant, stood silhouetted against the western horizon by the dying colours of the day. The moon, a few days past full, peered out of the east like a heavy-lidded eye.

“Where are we going anyway?” Mikey queried.

“To the picnic area where we were at lunch,” James said.

“How come back there?” Becky asked.

“I want to show Conor something. That’s why we’re coming out here. Because Conor’s been telling me about a place and I think no one believed him. We all thought it was just something in his dreams. But at lunchtime when I was helping Mikey get back up the path, I think I saw the place Conor’s been talking about. So I wanted him to see it.”

“Why?” Becky asked.

“Because if people keep telling you that the things you experience aren’t real, it can make your life very scary and unsettled.”

“What are me and Mikey and Morgana supposed do while you’re showing him this place?” Becky asked.

“You can just play in the viewpoint area. We won’t be there very long.”

“We’re supposed to play in the dark?” Mikey asked incredulously.

“Your Uncle Jack and I used to do that all the time when we were little,” James replied. “We played hide and seek and kick the can and lots of other great games outside after dark.”

“I don’t think kids play like that anymore,” Becky said doubtfully.

They passed through the entrance to the park and approached the first viewpoint. The Badlands themselves weren’t yet fully visible because of the way erosion had formed them from the level of the plains, but the moonlight was beginning to illuminate changes in the landscape.

Conor sat abruptly upright. He leaned close to the windshield and peered out. “Where’s this?” he murmured and turned to look at James.

James pulled into the car park at the first viewpoint and let the children out. Conor gazed in amazement at the bizarre splendour unfolding as they walked down the steps to the overlook. Pressing his stuffed cat tight to his chest, he turned, looked at James and then looked back at the landscape.

“I wanted you to see this place,” James said gently to him. “When I was here earlier and saw it, I thought, ‘This is what Conor is telling me about.’ I thought you should come and see it too.”

Bewilderment suffused Conor’s expression. “There’s the moon,” he said softly and pointed up at the pale, uneven orb bright in the dusky sky. He turned back to the jagged landscape. “But here’s the moon too. Terria. This is terria. Everywhere is terria. Or is it?”

“Does Conor think this is the moon?” Morgana asked.

“Probably the moon does look like this,” Becky said.

“Where are the trees?” Conor asked.