Karen Rock - Under An Adirondack Sky

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“Do we have cell service up here?” asked Aiden. He had his head down, scowling at his screen, oblivious to the miracle he’d stepped into.

“It’s sketchy, I’m told, but there’s a phone in the farmstead. We’ll use walkie-talkies when we hike and camp.”

“I’m more concerned about checking my business.”

She dragged her eyes off the swooping falcons overhead, their cries sharp and joyous, and took in Aiden’s grim face. His naturally pale skin looked even whiter around his pressed lips. Her gaze swerved to Connor, who stood awkwardly on the edge of the group of students sorting through the luggage heap.

“You should be more concerned about your brother,” she muttered quietly.

“I’ve got to make sure he still has a home to return to when we get back.” Aiden stalked off and reached ahead of his brother to grab one of the large duffel bags the driver tossed off the back of the bus.

Rebecca held in a sigh. This was definitely going to be one of her toughest cases and she wasn’t sure which Walsh brother would be the hardest to crack. If she didn’t get through to them, they’d probably put on a boxing match at the showcase. It’d take more than one student’s failure to demonstrate progress for her superintendent to give her and the program a bad evaluation. Still, she really wanted to succeed with Connor.

“What? No bars?” screeched a nearby boy, who turned in a circle, his phone held high as if checking for radiation.

Several other students pawed at their phones and a frantic groan rose from the group.

“Do they even have internet here?” cried one of the chaperones, a parent from another district. She looked as upset as the kids.

“How will we survive?” moaned a girl as she tightened the band around the bottom of her side braid.

“Or call our friends and families?” A boy frowned at the cell phone he cradled. A screen door squealed and an older man and woman appeared on the porch. With his worn overalls stretched over a potbelly and her rooster-patterned apron belted around a small waist, they looked like they’d stepped from another era.

“Welcome,” boomed the ruddy man, whose thick, white beard curled beneath his chin and jaw. As for his head, not a wisp broke up the smooth dome of flesh. “I’m Marty Sikes and this is my wife, Judith.”

The dainty woman’s wide smile revealed a little too much gum, the color only a shade lighter than her short auburn perm. “Hello, everyone,” she called.

Several of the adults called back, as well as a few kids. Rebecca shot the four students she’d brought from her school a significant look and was gratified when Connor stopped bending a stick back and forth and flipped a hand in Mrs. Sikes’s direction.

Baby steps, Rebecca reminded herself. For all her kids. Would they add up to enough progress to impress the superintendent?

The group pressed closer to the base of the stairs. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Sikes,” Rebecca began. “Some of the kids are worried. Do you have internet? Wi-Fi?”

Mr. Sikes scratched his head. “Can’t see why.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd and one of her students, Tameya, gripped Rebecca’s arm hard. “Can’t see why we don’t get on the bus and leave,” she whispered.

Rebecca held in a laugh and patted the girl’s hand before prying it off her numb arm and turning to the group. “We’d been waiting to announce this, but cell phone use will be restricted to one hour before bedtime and designated free time. Our focus is on each other and ourselves. We can’t do that if we’re on our phones all the time, so let’s look at this as a positive.”

“But what’ll we do for fun?” said a boy from the back of the group. He pulled off his Yankees’ cap, then replaced it backward. A murmur of agreement pulsed through the crowd.

Judith Sikes shrugged narrow shoulders. “Well. I’m going to teach you how to make jar candles for starters.”

“No!”

“What?”

“I’m allergic to wax.”

Tameya closed her eyes and tipped her head back, letting her perfect, long black plaits sweep across her shoulders. “Wake me when this is over.”

“Needlepoint,” continued Judith, undeterred.

“I’m not allowed to touch needles,” called a girl, her hands on her hips.

“These are a different kind, dear,” the woman said kindly.

“Then there’s bird watching,” suggested her husband, setting off another round of groans.

Rebecca glanced around and noted Aiden’s continued efforts to get a signal. Connor propped a foot on the lower rail of a fence, his expression closed off. They couldn’t look less together. Didn’t even seem like they were a part of this group...not that that was a good thing right now.

“Of course, I can show you some of the ones I’ve stuffed,” Marty Sikes added, offhand.

“Eww!” chorused some of the kids.

“I will seriously pass out if I see one of those,” gasped Tameya.

“Cool,” blurted the boy in the baseball cap as he shoved to the front of the throng. “Like taxidermy? I saw that in a movie, except the killer sewed up people he lured to his farm and...”

His voice trailed off and an appalled silence fell as the kids looked at each other, then at the Sikeses.

“And we can’t even call for help,” whispered Tameya between clenched teeth.

Rebecca stepped forward. Enough was enough. “Mr. and Mrs. Sikes are the caretakers for the property and will be supplementing some of our planned activities with other, er, unique tasks that you’ll get to choose.”

The unsettled group hushed and Jeff joined her as they climbed the porch and stood beside the Sikeses. Aiden peered up from his phone and met her gaze, his expression challenging.

“We’ll be leading you on hikes from here nearly every day,” said Jeff.

“Take you canoeing on the Ausable River,” added Rebecca.

“And don’t forget rock climbing. Marty here’s a pro.” Judith patted her husband’s arm and the kids’ eyes widened. “He goes ice climbing, too.”

“Whoa,” someone muttered.

“And those mountains.” Rebecca pointed at two of the tallest. “We’ll be climbing them.”

“No way,” cried another boy, sounding impressed.

“Can we get cell service from up there?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” said Rebecca, smiling.

“And camping,” continued Jeff. “We’ve got overnight trips planned. Campfires. S’mores.”

“Mountain biking,” piped another psychologist, looking down at the trip’s itinerary. Journey. Rebecca studied her, remembering her unusual name from their earlier meetings.

“What about TV?”

“Happy to report we’ve got all three channels,” said Marty proudly.

Tameya flipped up her hoodie and pulled the strings. “This is going to suck so bad,” she mumbled, her voice just loud enough for Rebecca to make out.

“We’ll even be catching the fish we eat,” contributed another therapist. Tony. No. Tommy. That was it.

“Lots of trout for you to clean.” Marty rubbed his hands together.

“Eww,” squealed the kids again.

“All right, everyone,” announced Rebecca. Time to move on. “Grab your gear and head inside. Put your stuff next to a bunk. The girls’ rooms have an orange ribbon on the doorknob. The boys have purple. Rooms with only two bunks are for adults. But don’t get too cozy. Our first overnight trip starts tomorrow.”

As they streamed around her, she called, “And no taking off the ribbons.”

Within minutes, the porch cleared, leaving her standing alone at the rail. Or so she thought.

Aiden leaned against a newel post, studying her. “You should have told me about the cell phone situation.”