They’d camped under an overhanging rock ledge. Two nights. On the second night, a fierce storm had blown in while they wereout hiking. Wind blowing the rain sideways, trees bending and swaying. Don had worried they’d gotten lost, but Rodney said they hadn’t. He knew where they were, knew where they were going. And twenty minutes later, they’d found their camp, right where Rodney said it was.
Soaked to the bone, they’d dried off in the tent, and one thing led to another, Rodney’s hands callused, warm, gentle. At the climax, Don cried out and the sound of his voice echoed through the trees.
Rodney had fallen to the side, Don grimacing at the wetness around his rear. Handing him a towel, Rodney had said, “I think I love you.” It was the first time he’d said it out loud.
To that, Don had replied, “I think you do too.”
They’d slept tangled together, the rain lashing against the tent.
And here, now, over four decades later, the man snored worse than ever.
Don smiled quietly to himself. The smile faded when he thought of Megan. Of John. Jamie and Lauren, none the wiser. Should he have done more? Said more?
He thought of the small box stored away, and the reunion they were hoping for. Out of sight, but never out of mind. That wasn’t possible.
Eventually, he slept.
CHAPTER 3
Uranus was gone. That’s what they heard when they turned on the radio on the sixth day of their trip. In a trembling voice, the newscaster said that Uranus had been ripped apart. Given the position of the planets, Jupiter was next. The Great Red Spot—the stormy eye of the planet that had raged on for centuries—didn’t hold a candle to what was coming for it.
Don turned the dial on the radio away from the news, right as they began to theorize how electronics would be affected soon: At some point in the coming weeks—perhaps days—satellites would become useless. Internet not working. Cell phones not working. It was necessary information, but at the same time, too much to listen to. Though Rodney would never admit it, Don knew it was making him anxious. He felt the same, responding to texts from friends back home, asking about their journey, how far they’d made it, if they thought they’d have enough time. Too much, all of it. Especially when he’d spent the morning screenshotting the maps on his phone just in case service went down. He found classical music—“Clair de Lune,” the bittersweet piano. Then country—Garth Brooks and the thunder rolled. He stopped on Pat Benatar for just a moment as she sang that whatever we deny or embracefor worse or for better, we belong, we belong, we belong together. Back to “Clair de Lune,” and there it stayed. Such a terribly sad song. The window down, the air cool, sky cloudy.
It was slow going. They’d just gotten out of New York state, having had to make several detours to avoid major cities and highways. They’d come across long lines of cars, people standing on the road, conversing. They’d met up with a group of young people who’d shown them a way around using dirt roads so small that trees scraped against the side of the RV. They’d almost made it out before they’d gotten stuck in a muddy patch of ground deeper than it looked. The kids had stopped, gotten out, and proceeded to push the RV. By the time it was free, their new friends were covered in mud. They hugged before going their separate ways.
They didn’t travel at night. Rodney liked to drive, but his vision wasn’t as good as it used to be, and Don didn’t trust himself to drive on strange roads in the dark. Thankfully, they chased the sun as they traveled west. They took breaks often, getting out of the RV and stretching, Don massaging Rodney’s neck and shoulders as they grew stiff. His back was bothering him too, but he didn’t complain much.
On the eighth day since they had started their trip—and with approximately three weeks remaining until the end—they found themselves in rural Ohio. Don had never been to Ohio before. It was flat. So much of it was flat. Large empty fields that stretched on as far as the eye could see, dotted sparsely with withered trees.
It was getting dark, and the two-lane road they were on seemed to grow smaller the farther they went. According to the GPS on Don’s phone, they still had another three hours to go before they found a larger road.
No places to pull off. No rest stops, no empty parking lots. Just miles and miles of nothing with darkened houses every now and then. They were about to start arguing—Don could feel itbuilding—when they crested a rare hill and saw a large fire in the distance. Behind it, the sun approaching the horizon.
“What’s that?” Don asked nervously. “Is it a house? Do we try and call the fire department?” In his mind, he could imagine the fields catching on fire, surrounding them, keeping them from finishing what they’d started out to do.
“Too small,” Rodney said. “See sunlight flashing near it? Cars. I think it’s a bonfire.”
He was right. As they got closer, they could see people standing around the large fire. It looked to be in the middle of a field, surrounded by at least a dozen vehicles: cars, SUVs, campers. Tents too, some small for only one or two people, and others much larger that could easily fit at least five adults with room to spare.
They stopped on the blacktop as they came to a dirt road that led up to the bonfire. No one behind them. No one in front of them.
“Well?” Don asked. “What are we doing?”
“Hush,” Rodney said, staring straight ahead. “I’m thinking.”
They both let out yelps when a knock came at the passenger window.
Don jerked away from the door, only to have his seat belt pull tight against his chest. He pressed a hand against his throat as he turned his head.
A young woman stood outside the RV. She looked to be in her early twenties, and was stunningly beautiful. Her long, cascading hair rested on her shoulders. Atop her head, a crown of white daisies with yellow centers. She wore a cropped shirt, her bare stomach pale, and a long flowing pink skirt with lace. She was barefoot, her toenails painted lime green.
Don cracked the window.
The woman stepped closer. She smiled. “Hi. Are you lost?”
“I don’t… think so?” Don said. “We’re headed west.”
“Where?”