Starfish_ A Novel - James Crowley [55]
Lionel wondered what Beatrice would think about Corn Poe continuing to include himself in all of their plans, and now that he thought about it, he noticed that Corn Poe almost seemed to be enjoying this. He watched the other three boys and thought about Beatrice and Mr. Hawkins back at the lodge and how fast they had been able to move through the woods that very morning. How fast they had been able to move without all of them.
Lionel decided to go for a swim to clear his head and pulled off his clothes, starting with the bear claws. He hung the string of claws from a low branch of a quaking aspen, stripped off his clothes, and jumped into the stream’s deepest pool. The cold water surged over Lionel’s body, reviving his legs, tired from the morning’s run. Lionel was happy that the tumbling waters from the stream drowned out Corn Poe, who continued to hypothesize his different plans of escape.
Lionel’s head hurt, so he swam under a small waterfall and leaned forward to drink, letting the water beat onto the back of his neck and shoulders. He heard what he thought to be a distant whistle, but as he swam toward the muddy bank, realized from Junebug’s reaction that it was one of Mr. Hawkins’s birdcalls. He followed Corn Poe, Junebug, and Tom, gathering his piled clothes and pulling them on as he ran back to the lodge.
Mr. Hawkins stood before the lodge, cinching the saddles on his already loaded horses. He worked quickly, barely acknowledging the boys as they ran across the meadow to join him. Lionel looked around for Beatrice and Ulysses.
“I must be outta my head. I should just be takin’ my boy and leavin’ the rest of ya,” Mr. Hawkins said, more to himself than to the rest of them. “Me and old Junebug got ourselves organized and know how to move. I can’t say the same about the rest of you.”
Mr. Hawkins lifted a heavy sack of flour onto the back of one of the packhorses and tied the thick canvas over it.
“And you,” Hawkins said, turning to Corn Poe, “I don’t want no more foolishness. No more of this idle chatter. You’re to keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told! I want you to think before ya speak.”
Beatrice appeared from behind the lodge, riding high on Ulysses’s back. Their few supplies were already tied in small bundles to the great horse’s neck.
“Do ya hear me, boy?” Mr. Hawkins demanded. “’Cause I’ll leave ya here, if not. I’ll leave ya right here!”
Corn Poe stood, surprisingly speechless.
“Now, gather your things. You do the same, Lionel. Check to see if your sister got everything.”
Lionel and Corn Poe ran into the lodge, fueled by the urgency in Mr. Hawkins’s voice. Avery John Hawkins seemed like a different person, the anger making his voice almost unrecognizable.
They crossed the crooked doorframe and Lionel paused, impatiently letting his eyes adjust to the dim light. As the cavernous fireplace slowly came into view, Lionel wondered if this was the last time he would ever see the lodge. Corn Poe scrambled about, blindly throwing his only other shirt, his spare pair of woolen socks, and a blue tin cup into his heavy jacket.
“That’s my kit,” he said, and shot back out the door.
Lionel surveyed the room once more. His sister had, while he was swimming, taken care of everything.
They rode for the rest of the day and into the night. They rode higher and higher up into the mountains, Beatrice and Lionel on the back of Ulysses, Junebug and Mr. Hawkins on their horses, and Corn Poe and Tom Gunn riding on the pack horses that Mr. Hawkins led up the winding, narrow trail. Lionel could see the meadow and the lodge spiraling farther and farther below them as they climbed higher and higher. He wondered—if their grandfather did return, how would he find them? He wondered where Mr. Hawkins was taking them.
That night they made a small camp, but Mr. Hawkins warned them not to get comfortable, as they would be moving out long before