Perri O'Shaughnessy - Presumption Of Death

The kids trailed behind him. When he could speak, he said, as calmly as he could manage, “We’ve got canned Vienna sausage, bread, mustard, Chips Ahoys. A real feast.”

Callie looked interested. “What’s a Vienna sausage?”

“Camp food,” Danny said. “I promise, you’re gonna love it.”

“Do we have to stay here all night?” she asked.

“Yeah, but it’ll go fast.”

“I’m not used to sleeping without my blanky.”

“You’re too old for a blanky,” said Mikey disapprovingly.

“I know, but Grandma says whatever gets you through the night,” Callie said.

“If you’ll just shut up for one second,” Danny promised, “I’ve got a plan for after lunch, an activity we’re going to do together. Then, a little later on, when it gets dark, we’re gonna have some real fun.” He jumped up and put his Nikes on.

“I’m gonna teach you how to build a fire.”

P AUL SHIFTED THE BRONCO INTO FOUR- wheel drive and turned left at the jeep road.

“There’s a gate,” Nina said.

“That’s why I have an assistant.”

She got out, wrestled the gate out of the way, and got back in. They bumped slowly along the mogul-strewn dirt road for a few minutes. Going around the first wide bend, they saw an amazing vista of Lake Tahoe swept with wind like a heavenly vision, as insubstantial as an enormous blue cloud below them. “How far do we go? We don’t want him to hear any engine noise.”

“Not far,” Paul said. “He would get far enough from the highway so that the kids couldn’t easily find their way back, but the road isn’t that long.”

They rode a little farther, until, at a spot offering one of the few level borders beside the road, Paul pulled off the road. He drove the Bronco over small logs and up a slight incline, then down into a gully. He got out and opened the trunk. Nina followed him.

“You insist on coming along?” Paul asked.

Nina didn’t bother to answer.

“In that case, we leave the Bronco behind, instead of having one person drive it out. If he comes back up this road, we don’t want him to see there are any other people around. Don’t want to scare him. People like Danny are full of fear. You know that? Full of bravado, not bravery.”

“But…” Nina said, puzzled, “he sets fires. That’s dangerous. If he’s so scared…”

“Scared he’ll get caught. Scared he’ll get hurt. Scared he won’t be respected. We’re going to do nothing that will set him off. Your pack,” Paul said, handing it to her.

She put it on her back.

“Hope we don’t have to go too far,” he said, handing her a jacket, which she tied around her waist. They sat on the bumper lacing their hiking boots. “Prisons are full of Dannys. Some of these guys are terrified of heights. Some are scared of water. Some won’t go on airplanes. They’re superstitious and they’re skittish. That’s why we don’t want to get near him. We scare him, he reacts. Problem is, we can’t predict how.” He finished, stood up, and adjusted the pack on his back.

“We have got to find him,” Nina said. “Paul, we have to be so careful. Those kids…”

“Right. So we sneak. We’ve got to be very quiet, and we have to travel pretty slowly because we’re going to be listening. And he is too. If he’s here, which is a long shot.”

Nina nodded.

They locked up the car and hiked back to the road. The road narrowed and switched back and forth. Before every curve, they held back until they were certain they weren’t going to run into any nasty surprise around the bend. Progress was very, very slow, because they wanted to travel in silence, and afternoon faded into dusk.

Callie would not allow them to toss the trash or even bury it. “We have to hike it out. I saw this show at school.”

The kids had eaten very little. They weren’t really hungry. They just needed their routines.

“Go ahead and bag it,” Danny said, feeling magnanimous. He went into the tent and came out again with a tiny recorder. Mikey, who had been looking unfriendly ever since refusing a second cookie, got curious and came over to see what he had. “That’s old,” he judged. “I had one of those years and years ago.”

“It’ll do the job,” Danny said. “Now, here’s what we’re gonna do. Instead of writing letters, we’re going to talk to them.”

“To Grandma?” asked Callie skeptically.

“Yep.”

Mikey looked even less sure. “What do I say?”

“Say, hey, Mom, Dad, I’m here, all’s cool. That kind of thing.”

“I thought they’re coming tomorrow,” Mikey asked. “Why can’t I talk to my dad?”

“This stupid phone is almost out of juice is why. Just say you can’t wait,” Danny said. “Tell ’em about fishing. Tell ’em you miss them. I’ll play your messages real fast so we get it all in.”

“I do miss them,” Callie said stoutly.

“Well, then say so.”

“Why didn’t you charge it on the car charger?” Mikey said suddenly.

“My friend’s charger won’t fit my phone.” He glared at Mikey.

Callie was first to take hold of the microphone. “Grandma,” she said formally, “it’s awful pretty up here in the mountains today and camping’s great but I miss you.”

“That’s exactly right,” said Danny, taking the microphone from her and putting it into Mikey’s face.

“Mom, Dad,” said Mikey, “I almost caught a fish! I never knew camping could be so fun. Hurry and come.”

“Great,” said Danny. “They’re going to love hearing from you.”

“How will they hear it?” asked Callie. “Aren’t we too far away?”

“They’ll hear it,” said Danny. “We’re up high and the reception is better than at home. That’s a promise.” He switched off the microphone. “You guys like marshmallows?”

Turned out, they did.

“I’m going to show you how to make a fire that can’t be beat,” Danny said. He took some dry wood from the pile he had borrowed from his mother. He showed them how to stack the branches like a pyramid, how to get the fire really hot. They roasted a few marshmallows to perfection, toasty brown.

Danny got up and found three cups. “I’ve got a pot full of water here, and a couple packets of hot chocolate. Who wants some?”

They practically jumped over each other, wanting some.

While the water heated, he prepared the mixture.

“I want this side of the tent,” Mikey said to Callie, who looked nervous, watching the night creep along the landscape.

“You can’t see the lake anymore,” she said, her voice small. “Are the bears going to come out?”

“I’m going to lock every crumb into the truck,” Danny said. “They won’t be able to smell it.” That was a lie, but Danny had enough worries without adding on bears.

“I get this side!” Mikey put his sleeping bag in place to cement the deal.

The afternoon breeze had gone for the day. Watching the small fire flick in the wind, Danny waited for the darkness. When the water in the pot got hot enough, he poured the liquid into the prepared cups.

“I can’t drink this,” Callie pronounced, making a face. “It’s way too hot.”

Mikey gulped the chocolate. “How come things taste so good when you are outside!”

Danny blew over Callie’s cup. “I can make it right,” he said. “Cool it down just the way you like it.”

For the first time that day, the little girl looked happy. “Okay,” she said.

“We need a story, though,” she said when Danny tried to get them into their bags.

“Sure, I’ll tell you a story. You finished up all your hot chocolate? There was the time I was down in Antigua and went out ocean fishing. You can catch fish there that are so big they can pull you right out of the boat!” He had never been to the Caribbean, but he had talked to a guy who had. He talked on, embellishing what he’d heard, making himself the hero, fabricating a lot of lore about marlin fishing he didn’t really know. Actually, as a way of passing the time, storytelling was something he enjoyed.