Stricken, Rodney said, “You don’t think I have been?”
“I think you got lost. To be fair, we both did. I wandered the house for days and weeks, sure that at any moment, he was going to burst in through the door. Maybe he’d be seven years old. Maybe he’d be an adult. But he’d come home and we would help him.” A tear slipped down his cheek. “And he’dwantour help. Unlike any other time before, he’d want it. But that didn’t happen. So like you, I got lost. Without a map, without a guide. We were in the middle of a jungle and didn’t know which way was out. Hell, maybe there wasn’t a way out. Maybe we’re still trapped there, and this is all just an illusion.”
“You’re real,” Rodney said fiercely. “I am too. Somehow, we’re still here.”
They went quiet for a time, Don lost in memory, Rodney undoubtedly the same. Don had words lodged in his throat, words he needed to get out, but they were stuck. He swallowed once, twice. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, “I miss him.”
Rodney sniffled. “I do too. Every day.”
“Where do you think he is?”
“I don’t know,” Rodney said. “Nowhere. Everywhere. Maybe he’s sitting in the truck with us. Maybe he’s been with us the whole time. In Maine. On the road. Seeing all the things we’ve seen. The people. The places.”
“He’d have loved it,” Don said, looking out the window. “All of it. Even the scary parts.”
“Especially the scary parts.”
Don chuckled. Then laughed louder and louder. Before long,Rodney joined in and under a dying sky, they laughed until they could barely breathe.
The ranger station was just as they’d remembered: a small, squat building in chocolate brown. A similar brown sign with yellow lettering let them know they were at the Copper Ridge trailhead. The lights were off in the building, no other cars in the parking lot, aside from an abandoned snowplow leaking salt out of its rear container.
Rodney pulled the truck into the parking lot, stopping parallel with the ranger station. Dawn was breaking, the sky taking on an orange-reddish hue, angry and bright. Shadows stretched long from the surrounding trees.
They didn’t get out right away. Because all around them, things were floating. Pinecones. Rocks. Clumps of dirt. Leaves. Above the branches reaching toward the sky, a flock of birds. Some of them looked like they were flying upside down.
Don moved first, opening his door and stepping outside. It took a noticeable extra second or two for his feet to reach the ground. That feeling of lightness, of near weightlessness was stronger than it’d been at Jerri’s cabin. Don wondered—just for a moment—what would happen if he jumped. Would he rise into the sky? Would he keep on going until he could see the curve of the Earth? It didn’t scare him as much as he expected.
Don heard the driver’s door open, and Rodney’s grunt of surprise when he stepped out of the truck. Don looked over the hood at his husband. Rodney was staring down at his feet, forehead bunched up.
“I know,” Don said.
Rodney lifted his head. “It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m not supposed to feel good.” He lifted his arms above his head.Even from the other side of the truck, Don could hear Rodney’s back crack, a quickpop pop pop. There was a smoothness to his face that hadn’t been there the day before, as if the wrinkles around his eyes, his mouth, his forehead were all receding. It wasn’t like Rodney suddenly appeared decades younger, but it wasn’tnotthat, either. Perhaps not decades, but a good ten years younger? Sure. That wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.
And that was to say nothing about Don himself. He could still feel his body. His arms, his legs. His chest and hips, his head upon his shoulders. But the crushing weight of living seemed to be lifting from his shoulders, as if the albatross around his neck had gotten tired of waiting in deepening misery. He didn’t feelbetter, not exactly. And yet, watching a pinecone spin in midair off the side of the road was a sight he never expected to see, filling him with wonder.
Rodney rounded the front of the truck, their backpacks in hand. “He’s in your bag. Safe.”
Don nodded and took the bag from Rodney, gently, carefully, as if he held the most precious thing in the world. Which, of course, he did. He slung it over his shoulders. They were here. They had kept their promise.
“I recognize this place,” Don said. “Didn’t think I’d remember it as well as I do. There was that… guy? The forest ranger. Remember him? With the eyebrows.”
Rodney snorted. “Yeah, I remember him. Thought he’d never shut up.”
“He liked to talk, didn’t he?”
“About anything and everything.”
“Told that joke, too. How did it go?”
Rodney said, “Beautiful day in the forest. Park ranger gives warning about bears. Says brown bears are usually harmless. They avoid contact with humans, so it’s suggested that campers and hikers tiesmall bells to their bags. They make noise and give the bears time to get out of the way. However, he said,grizzlybears are extremely dangerous. If you see any droppings from a grizzly, leave immediately.”
Don played his part. “How do we know if they’re grizzly bear droppings?”
Rodney looked at him, deadpan. “It’s easy. They’re full of small bells.”
A beat of silence.
And then Rodney’s lips twitched, mirth-filled eyes crinkling around the edges, that thing he did when he was trying not to laugh. Don didn’t have that problem. It was a terrible joke, even after all these years, but that didn’t matter. Don laughed. Rodney laughed too. They clung to each other as the laughter gave way to tears. Don didn’t know who sobbed first. It didn’t matter. It hit them both almost at the same time, and they cried. They cried until their lungs burned, until their faces felt like plastic. They cried until they saw their tears lifting from their faces, floating around them, glittering like tiny little stars. And then they laughed once more.