The Journey Back (9 page)

 

JUVENILE ESCAPES FROM
YOUTH DETENTION CENTER

 

CUMBERLAND—Authorities continued their search for a fourteen-year-old boy who escaped from the Cliffside Youth Detention Center ten days ago. They speculate the boy either walked off the property and was picked up or, possibly, that he fled by hiding in a garbage truck. According to state police, the boy may have hijacked a tractor-trailer rig parked at a diner on I-68 and then abandoned the vehicle at a runaway truck ramp on the east side of Sideling Hill.

“He's a wily character, for sure,” said State Police Sergeant Dean Cropper. He noted that the abandoned truck had caught fire from burning brakes and was damaged extensively.

Police have posted notices throughout the state and are searching the nearby C&O Canal towpath, which may have provided an escape route. Authorities also continued to stake out the boy's home on the Eastern Shore . . .

 

 

I had to look away for a moment. If police were staking out my house then I couldn't go home. There was more to that article, but I didn't finish reading it because just then in walked two cops! Clearly, they were looking around.

My heart beat double time because suddenly I realized this whole thing—us coming into town—was a setup!

I shot a glance at Nora, who pretended to be busy with her schoolwork.

When the cops walked toward the refreshment counter, I picked up my crutches. They hadn't spotted me yet. Then I left—just as quickly as I could.

A
t first I thought I'd hide in the bathroom, but then I figured that was too obvious. So when I saw this other door, with steps leading down, I went that way instead. When I closed the door I heard it latch behind me. I tried opening it, just to see if I could, but it was locked solid.

It was pitch black with the door shut. I set down my crutches, sat on the top step, and started easing myself down slowly, only to discover that after four steps there was a wall. I wasn't going anywhere.

I shook my head, disgusted at myself for trusting that girl. But then I wondered: Why'd she bother to give me the white card back? Why tell me about that job at the horse farm? Why bring me into town? Why not just have the cops come out to the campground?

These questions didn't have answers. I sat, frozen in the dark, feeling my stomach twist itself into a big knot.

More questions flooded my brain. What did the word
wily
mean? That state police guy said I was a
wily
character. What would happen if they found me? The boys back at Cliffside would get a big kick out of my poison ivy, wouldn't they? Tio would say something nasty right off and I'd have to punch him out for it.

My mouth went dry while my mind kept jumping around. Would I ride out to Cliffside handcuffed? How many more months—or years—would they tack on to my sentence for running? Who'd take care of Buddy? And Luke?

I heard people walk past the door. I thought I heard boots clunk past. Those cops were wearing boots. A police radio crackled. “On our way,” someone said.

Had I made a mistake? Did I jump to the wrong conclusions? If so, it would be really embarrassing to call out for help.

Meanwhile, I was locked in and that was making me break out into a cold sweat. I didn't like being locked in. Not one bit. I rubbed the moist palms of my hands on my leg.

I shifted position. I wiped a hand over my mouth. I glanced back at the door. What was I going to do?

When I heard Nora's voice, I quickly pushed myself back up the four steps and leaned toward the crack in the door so I could hear.

“Go in the men's room and look,” she said. A few seconds later: “No? Well, go back and sit down, Luke. I'll check outside.”

Footsteps. Luke walking away?

“Nora!” I said in a low voice. “Psssst . . . Nora!”

“Gerry?! Where are you?”

She must've turned around then and seen the other door. She tried the knob, but the door didn't budge. She tried harder and it popped open, like it had been stuck, not locked. Boy, I felt like a real idiot then.

“What are you doing in there?” Nora exclaimed.

“Shhhhh!” I grabbed her by the arm, pulled her in, and closed the door. “Can I just talk to you for a minute?”

“What's going on?”

“Shhhhhh! I'm hiding!” I whispered back.

“From who?!”

“Shhhh! Those cops—are they gone?”

Her voice calmed, and softened. “I think so. Some cops came in, but they left. Why'd you think the cops were after you?”

My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could see the confusion on Nora's face. “Can we just sit down for a minute so I can explain?”

“What? Sit down in
here?
”

“Yeah, there's a couple steps behind us.”

“This is like, ah, getting pretty weird, Gerry—”

“I know, I know,” I said. “Just give me a minute.”

We sat down. Nora crossed her arms and frowned.

“Look,” I began. “I'm in a little bit of trouble.”

“Yeah. Well, I guess I figured that part out.”

“You did?”

“Duh. A kid with nothing? Hiding in the woods? Now scared of police?”

“Actually, I'm in a lot of trouble, Nora. Please, if I tell you some stuff can you promise not to tell anyone?”

She lifted her shoulders as though uncertain. But what she said was “sure.”

“And
please
don't turn me in.”

Nora threw up her hands and glared at me. “If I was going to turn you in, don't you think I would have done that by now? I mean, why would I?”

My turn to shrug. “Why
wouldn't
you?”

For a few seconds, we sat there, her and me, not saying anything. I felt stuck. I didn't want to blow my cover and yet I realized that Nora hadn't called the cops after all. Here I was hiding though, so I had to tell her
something.

Nora sighed. “Okay, I'll make it easy for you,” she said. “When Luke and I couldn't find you, I looked at the Web page you had up on the computer. I read the story about the kid who escaped from this place called Cliffside, and now I'm putting that together with the card I found in your pants pocket and what's going on here now. So I have a pretty good idea who you are—
Michael.
”

I winced, but I didn't deny it. “Yeah, well, that's me.” Still, I hesitated. The truth is that I really wanted to trust Nora because not trusting anyone was lonely. Living the way I was, hiding behind a bunch of lies, took a lot of energy. Plus it was complicated—and nerve-racking, too.

I took in a breath, let it out slow, and decided to take a chance on her.

“Look, I was at that detention place called Cliffside, but I needed to get home to take care of things, so I busted out of there.”

“Did you escape in a garbage truck?”

When I nodded, Nora kind of chuckled. “And is it true you hijacked a tractor-trailer truck?”

“Yeah,” I told her, and I had to grin a little because no matter what, it was a pretty amazing ride.

“That's wild! How'd you know how to drive it?”

So I told her some about my dad, what he did for a living, and where I come from. But I didn't tell her the bad stuff my father did, or why I got sent to Cliffside.

“You know, I never thought you looked like a Gerry,” Nora said. She sat back with her arms still crossed and scrunched up her nose. “But you don't look like a Michael either.”

“That's funny 'cause no one calls me Michael,” I said. “They call me Digger.”

“Digger,” she repeated.

I hoped I hadn't told her too much. “Been my nickname since I was a little kid. It's 'cause I called the backhoe a digger.”

“Cool! I like it.”

“It's better than Gerry.”

“For sure! So can I call you Digger?”

I smiled a little and when our eyes met in the dim light of that closet I felt something deep inside kind of melt. “Only when no one else is around, okay? You've
gotta
keep it a secret, Nora.”

“I promise,” she said.

So Nora knew about me. For better or for worse.

Later, when her mother was dropping Luke and me off at the campsite, Nora whispered “Good-bye, Digger” into my ear.

—

Woody still hadn't come home. With Buddy trotting beside us, Luke and I walked down to the bathhouse to brush our teeth. After we returned to our tents, I told Luke to change and get ready for bed. When I went in to say good night I saw how he had the checkerboard all set up for a game with his dad. The board was on a small table in between their two cots. It made me feel sorry for Luke that his dad hadn't come home on time. But it also made me aware of that hole I carried around inside myself. I honestly couldn't remember my father ever playing any kind of game with me. Not checkers or Clue, Monopoly, not even cards— nothing.

“I'm sure your dad will be back by morning,” I told Luke.

He didn't seem worried, but he wasn't himself either. Like he was usually full of chitchat and dumb questions. “You're not going anywhere, are you?”

“Nope,” I told him. “I'll be right out there in the pup tent all night.” I knew Luke was counting on me. And since the cops were keeping such a close eye on my family's home I figured I'd be hanging out here longer than I planned.

“Do you promise?” Luke asked.

“What? That I'll be here? Of course!”

But I could see he was still a little anxious so I sat down on the cot beside him. “I was thinking you ought to learn how to swim, Luke. If it's still warm out this week, maybe we can go down to the river one day and get you a lesson.”

“We'll stay in the shallow part, though, right?”

“Absolutely,” I assured him. “So you better get some rest 'cause it'll be quite a workout.”

Luke seemed to like the idea. He took off his glasses and set them on the milk crate by his bed. Then he crawled into his sleeping bag and hugged his stuffed tiger.

I got up to leave.

“Did you know armadillos can swim?” he asked.

I turned around. “Armadillos?”

“Yeah!” Luke nodded eagerly. “An armadillo can fill itself up with air and swim across the river. I saw one do it once!”

“No armadillos around here, though, are there?” I asked him. “Don't they live in the South somewhere? Like in Texas?”

Luke ducked down and pulled the sleeping bag over his head, which I thought was a little strange. What was with him? Was he scared?

“Hey, tell you what,” I said. “How 'bout if I leave Buddy in here to sleep with you tonight? Until your dad gets back.”

He whipped the covers off his face. “That would be great!”

“Buddy, here!” I ordered, pointing to the rug beside Luke's cot. “Lay down.” The dog did exactly as I told him. “Stay!” I ordered, showing him the palm of my hand. He didn't move. Really, for a mutt, he was an awesome dog.

I reached down to pet him on the head. “Good boy.”

I felt a little tap-tap on my elbow.

“Can I ask you one more thing?” Luke wanted to know.

“Sure.”

“How come Nora called you Digger?”

“What? You heard that?”

He grinned, the little devil. Then he reached a hand down to pet Buddy, and the dog licked his fingers.

I took a hard look at that kid. I felt sorry for him, sure. He seemed like a good kid. But could I trust him, too?

“All right, I'll tell you something,” I said. I sat down on the edge of his cot again. “But you have to swear to keep it to yourself.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. What is it?”

“Gerry's not my real name.”

“It's not?” His eyes tripled in size and he sat up.

“Nope. My real name's Digger. I told Nora so I'll tell you, too. When it's just you and me and Nora, you can call me Digger.”

“Wow!” Luke exclaimed. “So Gerry was just your adventure name?”

I kind of laughed. “Yeah, I guess it was my adventure name.” I was thinking, if only this kid knew about the adventures I'd had!

Luke was beaming like the noonday sun. “You know what?”

“No. What?”

“Luke is not my real name either. It's
my
adventure name!”

“Y
our adventure name? What do you mean?” I asked Luke.

The smile vanished from his face. “I'm not supposed to talk about it. Daddy will be mad.”

He reminded me so much of Hank right then that I put both my hands on his shoulders and squeezed them. “Look at me,” I said. “It's no big deal. Everybody's got secrets, right?”

Unsure, Luke nodded weakly.

“So forget it!”

But Luke didn't look convinced.

“Hey! Come on, let's read a chapter in that dog book you were reading last night with your dad.”

“Tornado?”

“Yeah.”

Luke loved this story about a dog that dropped out of the sky.

He reached into the milk crate by his bed to get the book and put his glasses back on. I didn't ask him anymore about his
adventure name.
But you can bet your boots I filed away this information.

—

On the second day that Woody didn't come back, I had to start thinking serious about things. My ankle and the poison ivy were better and I still wanted to get home, but not while the police were staking out my family. Besides, what if Luke's father didn't come back? Someone had to look out for the kid.

First thing I did, whenever Luke was down to the bathhouse by himself or taking Buddy for a walk, I'd rush into the tent and rifle through stuff. I was looking for money mostly, money so we could buy food, when I come across a yellow envelope in the bottom of Woody's duffel bag. Inside was the title to his truck, a couple receipts, and one other thing: a license. It was a Texas license and it had a picture of Woody that didn't look like Woody. I mean, you could tell it was him, the round cheeks, the high forehead, the foxy eyes. But in this license picture he had short brown hair and was clean shaved. The Woody I knew had longish blond hair and a full beard. And the name on the license was
not
Sherwood “Woody” Hawkins like he told me, it was Glen David Hardesty.

Huh. I wondered what that was all about.

I put the license back, covered up the envelope with clothes, and kept looking for money, but there wasn't any. Worse come to worse, I still had the three dollars in my pocket and Luke had the change from his twenty. He said it was all he had, but all together I hoped our cash would be enough for a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread, some milk, and a bag of ice. Other than that, Luke and me would have to survive on our own for a while.

Nora worked all weekend at the horse farm, but when she stopped by on Monday I asked if her mother could get us that food.

She frowned. “Do you have the money? She won't just buy it.”

“Yeah. I think I have enough.”

“It's just that every penny counts,” she said. “She's trying hard to save up enough so we can get an apartment before winter.”

“Sure! I understand,” I said. “I wasn't asking for free food.”

“But if you get desperate, tell me, okay? I could probably sneak you guys some cereal or a couple sandwiches or something.”

“Thanks,” I told her. But I didn't want to go begging from Nora. I was starting to really like her and I didn't want her feeling sorry for me.

“The other thing is that I'd like to look into that job at the horse farm.”

She perked up. “Great! Next weekend, come with me!”

We were sitting at our picnic table after Luke and I had a supper of leftover baked beans and half each of a stale, grill-toasted burger roll. It was getting dark earlier so Luke was doing his homework under a lantern in the tent while Nora and I propped up a flashlight on a bag of napkins and started a card game.

“Where do you think Woody is?” I asked her. I was genuinely concerned, plus I hated being hungry again.

“Beats me,” she said, dealing out the cards. “One time this summer he gambled all night at the casinos in Charles Town. But don't worry, he'll be back.”

I picked up my cards. “Maybe we need to call him on your cell phone—”

She shook her head. “I don't have his number. Plus my cell's not charged.”

Didn't she say that before?

“A couple of times my mom and I had to take care of Luke when he was late getting home,” Nora went on, still arranging the cards in her hand. “He figures you're here now—and he knows you won't call the police.”

All of a sudden the loud squeal of brakes and a big thump stopped our conversation. The sound was close, like maybe on the main road into camp.

A woman screamed.

Luke came running out of the tent. “What was
that
?”

Nora and I both set down our cards. I grabbed the flashlight and we three tore down the dirt road, me still favoring that ankle and doing sort of a run/hop, with Buddy right beside us. Right off, we saw a car sideways off the road in a ditch, its lights still on, and smoke pouring out of the engine. Two people stood in the road. “We're all right!” one of them called out.

Other people had gathered and were staring into the bushes. When we got close we saw the car had hit a deer, a doe it looked like, and the animal was struggling to get up.

Buddy lurched forward and started barking so Luke kneeled down and put his arms around him to hold him back. A little boy stepped toward the deer, reaching out his hand like to wanted to pet it, or help it, and I shouted a warning: “Don't! That deer is alive and those front feet can tear you to shreds!”

A woman snatched the young boy back and a couple minutes later we all watched as the deer lay down its head and took its last breath.

Nora had a hand over her mouth. There were tears in her eyes. Even Luke, still holding back Buddy, looked about ready to cry.

I glanced around at the crowd and didn't quite get it. It was too bad what happened, for sure. But while they all saw some tearful scene, I saw an opportunity—at least forty pounds of free, fresh venison. Right when I really needed it!

The man who hit the deer was on his cell phone calling for a tow truck and most of the people watching started to leave.

“Let's go,” Nora said, touching my arm.

“Poor deer,” Luke added. “What will happen to it?”

“The police will probably come in the morning and take it,” Nora told him.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “No one's gonna claim it?”

“Claim the deer?” Nora asked.

“Yeah!”

“For
what?
”

“For
meat!
” I exclaimed. Every fall since I was nine years old I'd been out deer huntin' with my friend and his uncle. Brady and I, we took the hunter safety course together and my mother signed the papers so I could hunt legal. She knew how good that venison tasted! My mother cooked it about ten different ways—she
did
occasionally cook something—and it fed us for weeks.

I decided to act.

“Look,” I said quietly to Nora and Luke, “will you help me?”

Nora's eyes grew big. “What do we have to do?”

“Just help me pull the deer into that little clearing,” I said. “And Luke, keep ahold of Buddy and don't let him go, you hear?”

First, I approached the deer from the rear and poked it with a stick to be sure it was dead. The deer was heavy, and it took the two of us hauling together to move it to a small level clearing off the road. I handed the flashlight to Nora.

“Hold the light on the deer's belly for me, will ya?”

While Nora held the flashlight, I pulled out the jackknife, kneeled in front of the deer, and went to work. I glanced up once and caught the horrified look on Luke's face. “You might not want to watch this,” I warned him.

But Nora kneeled beside me holding the light and seemed real interested as I reached deep inside the deer and groped with my hands until I found what I needed to find and cut through it with my jackknife. At that point all the organs inside the deer were freed from the body and I was able to roll everything out onto the ground.

Buddy whined and I'm sure Luke had to tighten his hold.

“Wow,” Nora said. “That's the peritoneum—the thin membrane that covers all those organs. We learned it in biology.” She reached out to touch it.

“I didn't know the name,” I said.

“
Now
what?” Nora whispered.

“Where's the blood?” Luke piped up. “How come it doesn't smell?”

A stranger answered. “There's not much blood 'cause this here kid did one heck of a job field dressin' that deer.”

We all turned to see an older guy who had been standing there watching. “Hat's off to you, boy. I used to hunt years ago and I ain't never seen anyone do as neat a job as you.”

“Thanks,” I said. Turning to Luke, I explained, “The only reason it would smell is if I accidentally opened the stomach. Then it would stink to high heaven.”

The stranger laughed. “You're right on that!”

Luke wrinkled his nose.

After finishing, I wiped my hands off best I could on some nearby grass. Then Nora and I stood up and I cleaned the jackknife off on my pants leg. “Next thing we need to do is get this deer back up to our campsite and hang it up.”

“Hang it up?” Luke asked.

“To cool off the meat and let it bleed out,” I told him. I turned to Nora. “Do you know anyone has a wheelbarrow? I'm gonna need a plastic bag, too.”

“
You're
going to butcher this deer?” she asked.

“Who'd you think was going to do it? Santa Claus?”

“Is deer meat good?” Luke wanted to know.

“Plenty good,” I told him. “Like beef, only a little stronger. You just wait and see.”

When Nora returned with what I needed, I pushed aside the deer's innards, cut out the liver, and put it in the plastic bag.

“Here,” I told Luke. “Your job's to carry this back and not let Buddy get it.”

Luke held it at arm's length. “What are you going to do with
that?
”

I had to laugh. “I'm gonna eat it! Fresh deer liver, are you kidding? If you're extra good, I might even let you have a piece.”

“Ewwwwww!” he said. But I bet to myself that Luke would find it mighty tasty. If not, then I'd give his share to Buddy.

On the count of three, Nora and I hefted that doe into the wheelbarrow. It must've weighed a hundred twenty pounds or so. Limping, I wheeled it back to the campsite while Nora walked alongside and made sure the deer didn't fall off.

Luke pulled on my shirt. “What about all that
stuff?
” he asked. I stopped and we looked back at the shiny innards lying in the woods behind us.

“Don't worry,” I told him. “The raccoons, the possums, the fox—they'll have a feast tonight. Won't be a speck of deer gut left in the morning.”

Luke looked disgusted and kept glancing back at it while we walked. I had to smile, remembering the first time I watched Brady's uncle field dress a deer. Guess it's something you never forget. But I didn't find it gross, just part of life. Waste not, want not, my grandpa used to say.

—

Back at the campsite, I picked out a couple trees, then found myself about a four-foot-long, skinny but sturdy stick on the ground. There's a place on a deer, near a tendon on the hind leg, where you can cut a hole and run a stick through. A couple campers had stopped to watch, so once I got that stick through I asked them to help me hoist the deer up and set the ends of the stick in two different trees so the deer could hang upside down. With Nora holding a flashlight on the trees, we got the job done.

“Butt up, head down,” I told Luke, “so the blood can drain out.”

He seemed scared. “How much blood?”

I shrugged. “Not that much. Maybe a pint.”

“What you gonna do with all that meat?” a guy asked.

“Don't have no way to freeze this meat and the weather's not cool enough to leave it hanging so tomorrow I'm gonna cut it up. Come around in the morning and spread the word,” I said. “Bring a plastic bag or something to wrap up some meat.”

After we had that deer hanging up high enough to be out of critter reach, I went down to the river and felt around the water's edge for a smooth, flat stone and brought it back to the campsite.

Nora had a fire going like I'd asked. The first thing I did, I put that deer liver in the big iron skillet Woody had, added a little oil, and started cooking it up. Nora had found an onion and threw slices of it in the pan, too. We had to tie Buddy inside the big tent 'cause he was barking his head off, but I figured he'd calm down in a bit. While the liver fried, I sat on one of those rickety aluminum chairs and, in the light of the fire, spit on the smooth rock I'd found and started sharpening the edges of the jackknife by rubbing the blade against the stone in a swirling motion.

“Okay. I'm like flabbergasted,” Nora said, sitting in the chair beside me. “I have never seen anyone cut up a deer like that.”

“It's called field dressing,” I reminded her.

“Field dressing.
Amazing.
I mean, I could see all the organs, everything. It was fascinating!”

“You'd make a good hunter then,” I told her.

“Or a doctor,” she suggested. “You think?”

I smiled at her. “Sure! Or a doctor.” I knew that was her dream.

“Really, I was impressed,” she said.

When I looked over at her, she smiled at me in a way that was different, more real somehow. My face grew warm as I turned my attention back to the blade I was sharpening. Compared to the first time I met Nora, when she seemed to think I was pretty stupid, I felt like now she had some genuine respect for me.

By the time I had the knife good and sharp, the meat was done.

“Hey, Luke!” I called. “Come try some of this liver!”

But I never did get an answer from him.

—

The next morning—when Woody
still
wasn't back—Luke and Nora had to go to school. By myself, I pushed the picnic table over by the hanging deer so I could stand on top of it to do the butchering. I tied up Buddy so he wouldn't go crazy. Then I took my sharpened jackknife and started cutting away from the legs on down, easing the hide off. As I worked, a couple people started to come around.