Take Me With You Page 22

  “Try to be optimistic about it. The one secret he let slip was a happy one. Maybe there are more happy surprises.”

  “That would be nice,” August said. Then, because it was too heavy and obvious to leave unsaid, he added, “For a change.”

  Harvey frowned but said nothing. They’d been doing quite a bit of work lately on helping August walk a good line with the diagnosis. Not minimizing the seriousness of the issue, but also not falling to the other extreme. Self-pity.

  August briefly wondered if that was the real reason behind why he always felt so tired lately. Seemed the figurative, internal straight line was harder to walk than the literal, physical one.

  “And then he said something to me at the end of the conversation that I still don’t understand. He was apologizing for the fact that Seth keeps in better touch than he does—”

  “Helps when you’re verbal,” Harvey interjected.

  “Well, Henry was verbal when he called the other night. So he can be if he wants to be. Anyway, he said it was because Seth’s more of a rebel. And I didn’t get that.”

  “Seems self-explanatory. Their dad told them not to.”

  “But they’ve ignored that from the start and gone behind his back. That’s a given. I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it out to be a bigger thing than it is.”

  “You know,” Harvey said in that tone he usually adopted when about to say something that would make August want to slug him, “if you don’t know what somebody means by something, you can ask. It’s called communication.”

  “Funny. I did ask. That’s when he got all flustered and acted like everything he said was a mistake. And then he hurried off the phone and that was that.”

  “Well. They’ll be here soon. And more will be revealed.”

  And then they’ll go to Yosemite, August thought. And Joshua Tree. And they’ll hike. And camp. And Seth will climb. And they’ll have campfires in the evening. And spend all day on the trail or the open road.

  And I won’t.

  And with that, August felt himself fall off the center line for the first time. Deeply into self-pity. He didn’t even bother to try to break his own fall. He just sank all the way down. Let the current take him away.

  Chapter Two:

  GROWN

  August leaned his back up against the outside wall of the bus station, grateful to ease his weight off his tired arms. He waited for the bus to pull up out front so he could meet the boys before they walked into the station. To minimize his own walking. It was the end of the last day of school, and he was painfully tired.

  Three buses pulled in, but all turned out to be, disappointingly, from somewhere else. By the time he saw the bus that would prove to be the right one, August deeply regretted having no place to sit down.

  He saw them in the window as the bus drew by—too far by. He would have to walk again. He watched their hands go up in a static wave, their faces changing with emotion and relief. He did not feel what he had expected to feel.

  In his imagination it was a moment marked by a swell of positive emotion. It resolved the eight years of semisilence. And it was simple. It was all good. It was just good.

  When will I ever learn? he thought. Nothing is ever that simple. Nothing is ever all good.

  Instead he felt a ringing emptiness, a sense of profound loss. One of the people he’d just waved to was a man. A young man, but a man. The other was a teenager. A young adult. They were not the children he remembered. They were not children. They had grown into people he knew little about. And they had done so without his help or influence, or even—for the most part—his witness. It made him feel as though something precious had been taken from him.

  He shook himself free of the moment and began the long—by his new standards—walk to the spot where the bus had stopped. He looked down to be sure he wasn’t about to tangle his canes with the feet of other people headed for the bus. When he looked up, Seth was coming in his direction fast. Apparently Seth planned to bowl him over with a hug. Unfortunately, Seth probably didn’t realize how easily bowled over August could be these days. How literal that phrase could become.

  “Careful!” he said suddenly and without much thought.

  Seth froze, his face falling and closing up fast. He was clean shaven now. August was vaguely aware of people brushing past their shoulders.

  “It’s easier than you think to knock me down. Do give me a big hug. But when I lift my arms to hug you back, you’re going to be the only thing holding me up. So don’t let go without notice.”

  Seth’s face softened, but not into simple relief. More like a mixture of relief and a shot of pain, or even pity, over August’s new condition. Next thing August knew, he was wrapped in Seth’s surprisingly strong arms. He was still thin, but the climbing had changed him. Again it struck August that Seth was a grown man.

  He raised his arms, canes and all, and hugged Seth in return. Over Seth’s shoulder he saw Henry, looking shy as ever. August smiled, and Henry averted his eyes and then smiled back. But by then Henry was smiling at the concrete of the bus station sidewalk.

  August carefully braced on his canes again. “Okay, I’m good,” he said.

  Seth let him go and stepped back. He held August briefly by the shoulders and smiled into his face in a way that looked worried and a little sad. Whether the shoulder hold was intended as physical or emotional support, August had no idea. Maybe both.

  Henry stepped up for his turn.

  “Careful how you hug him,” Seth told his brother. “Don’t knock him down. And let him know before you let go.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Henry said, “I heard all that. I can do it just as carefully as you can.”

  Henry’s hug was different. Gentler, and with more of a sense that he was not only giving support to August but taking support from him as well.

  “We have to get our bags,” Henry said quietly into August’s ear. “We have lots of bags.”

  August braced with his canes, and Henry carefully released him.

  “Why so much stuff? Aren’t you going straight home?”

  August watched the boys exchange a cryptic look between them.

  “No,” Seth said. “We’re going climbing.”

  “Straight from here? I didn’t know. Good thing I left so much in the rig. Flashlights and screwdrivers and pots and dishes and a million other things I would have taken out if I’d sold it to a stranger.”

  Or if I were in any shape to haul a million things up and down those narrow back stairs, he thought. He didn’t say it.

  For a moment he was struck with a second great wave of loss. Seth and Henry were going to Yosemite and Joshua Tree. And August was not. And he probably never would again.

  “Where’s Woody?” Seth asked as they made their way through the parking lot at a painfully slow pace. “We thought you’d bring him.”

  “He’s waiting in the car. It’s hard for me to walk him on leash these days, because I need both hands to walk. I pay a neighbor’s girl to take him out now.”

  August could feel his tiredness translating into uncoordinated movements. And they just got slower. He could sense how hard it was for the boys to move at this pace. How they had to keep reminding themselves. They both had two massive olive-green duffle bags, one on each shoulder. August wondered if they would have offered to help him walk if they weren’t so burdened. But he had to be able to walk on his own, even at the end of an extralong day.

  “Well, don’t you worry,” Seth said. “We’ll take him for lots of walks.”

  “Oh? I thought you were leaving in the morning.”

  He tried to keep his tone flat and even. It hurt him a little—no, maybe more than a little—that they hadn’t chosen to make a longer visit out of it. But of course he hadn’t said so out loud. He watched another look pass between the boys.

  “Right,” Seth said. “Well. We’ll have to work fast, then.”

  August almost said it then. Stay a little longer. What’s your hurry? We ha
ven’t seen each other in eight years. Yosemite and Joshua Tree will still be there in a few days.

  But he felt himself skating dangerously close to the line of self-pity. So he said nothing at all.

  “He doesn’t remember us,” Henry said, his voice betraying his surprise and disappointment.

  Woody stood with his paws on the passenger-side window and barked at the boys. And barked and barked. And barked.

  “You look a little different, you know,” August said. “What till he gets a sniff of you. Then he might change his tune.”

  At least August hoped so. But he really had no idea how long a dog could remember.

  Only two of the massive duffles fit in August’s trunk. So Henry had to wedge two in the backseat, one on top of the other, and then try to find a spot for himself beside them. Meanwhile Seth settled into the front passenger seat, and Woody retreated to the driver’s seat and gave him a long-distance sniff. The dog cocked his head slightly. He leaned in and took a close-up sniff of Seth’s bare arm. Suddenly a noise escaped the dog’s throat, sounding like a cross between a bark and a whimper. He leaped into Seth’s lap and began sniffing—then licking—all around Seth’s neck as Seth dropped his head back and laughed.

  “See?” August said, relieved.

  He began the difficult task of lowering himself into the driver’s seat.

  “Want help?” Henry asked immediately.

  “Oh. No. Thanks, Henry, but no. The more I practice this, the better.”

  Still Woody wiggled on Seth’s lap, his paws up on the young man’s chest, trying to direct his licks more toward Seth’s face. Seth continued to hold his head back. And laugh. And the laughter filled a huge hole that had been gaping open in August’s life, but he hadn’t even known it. He hadn’t consciously felt the gaping. But it struck him that he should have known.

  He eased himself into the seat with a sigh and placed his canes on the passenger side, near Seth’s knees.

  “Hey, Woody,” Henry said from the back, clearly tired of waiting. “What about me?”

  And Woody flew. It didn’t even look like a jump. August never saw him push off. He appeared to just lift off like one of those military planes that go straight up on takeoff. August looked over his shoulder in time to see him land in Henry’s lap.

  Henry didn’t drop his head back. He allowed the dog to direct the torrent of kisses at his nose and mouth.

  Henry opened his mouth to say something that sounded like, “He remembers me.”

  But he shouldn’t have. He should never have opened his mouth. August could hear him spitting and huffing and see him wiping his face on his sleeve, trying to recover from dog kisses to his open mouth.

  “You have to keep your mouth closed,” August said.

  “Now you tell me,” Henry replied, holding the dog at arm’s length long enough to say it.

  “That is so cool,” Seth said.

  He was watching August use a hand control to accelerate. August was barely used to the new hand-operated throttle and brake, and he felt awkward using them, especially while being watched. But Seth didn’t seem to notice his lack of ease.

  “How long have you had them?”

  “I only got the car back from installing them the day before yesterday.”

  “You’re good at them.”

  “Think so? Still feels awkward.”

  “Seems like you’re good with them.”

  “You sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

  So there it was. He had said it.

  August listened to the silent echo of his words. He’d had no idea he was about to say them. Part of him wished he hadn’t. Another part of him knew he’d have to sooner or later and was glad he’d finally gotten it over with.

  He watched the boys exchange another glance, until Henry caught August watching in the rearview mirror and carefully looked away, out the window.

  “It’s just that . . . we haven’t seen each other in so long.”

  “You can say that again,” Seth said.

  “Really,” Henry added.

  “So why run off in the morning?”

  “Don’t worry,” Seth said. “We’ll have a great visit. Promise.”

  “So you’re staying another day or two?”

  “We’ll have a great visit. Take my word for it.”

  “I can’t stay up and talk all night the way I might have when I was younger. I get tired early.”

  Another glance between the boys.

  “August. Trust me. I’m promising you. We’ll have a great visit.”

  August didn’t know how to get more specifics out of them, and he wasn’t liking himself very well for trying. So he abandoned the subject for the rest of the ride home.

  The minute they’d finished eating, Henry stood up at the dinner table, looking slightly nervous. He banged his thighs on the edge of the table, then looked nervous and embarrassed at the same time.

  “I’ll start loading our stuff in the motor home. Seth, you do the thing with August, okay?”

  Then he disappeared without waiting to see if it was okay or not. August looked over at Seth, who averted his gaze.

  “What thing with August?” August asked.

  “Oh. Well. I’ll tell you. No, I’ll show you. Which one is your room? Come on into your room, and I’ll show you what the thing is.”

  August tried to rise but plunked back into his chair again. It was harder at the end of the day. Everything made him tired. Seth ran around the table and helped him up.

  “Thanks,” August said, and reached for his canes.

  “Forget the canes,” Seth said. “You have me. Come on. Let’s do this thing.”

  “This thing being . . . ?”

  “You have to come with me into your room and then I’ll show you.”

  August sighed. He was curious. And accepting help seemed the fastest way to get where he wanted to go.

  He threw an arm over Seth’s shoulder, and Seth wrapped an arm firmly around his waist, and they walked slowly into August’s bedroom. It was messy, because he’d been too tired to clean it. And he’d been hoping no one would see.

  It was easy walking, because Seth supported a lot of his weight. He eased himself down on the end of the bed with Seth’s help.

  “Okay,” August said. “We’re here now. What’s this all about?”

  “I want you to point to everything you used to pack when you went away for the summer.”

  August sighed again. He had been hoping there was more to the “thing” than just that.

  “It won’t work,” he said. “You needed to know all that before you left home. It’s too late.”

  “What?”

  “Why didn’t you ask me for a list of what to bring before you left? I have a special packing list for RV trips. I could have sent you a copy.”

  “Oh. That’s good. Where’s that?”

  “On the computer.”

  “Can I print out a copy?”

  “Seth, it’s too late. Whatever you forgot to bring, it’s too late. You’ll have to buy it on the road or do without it. You missed your chance to organize your stuff.”

  “Our stuff?” Seth burst into a grin. “You still don’t know, do you? You don’t get it. All the mistakes Henry made. All the hints we dropped. And you still don’t know. August. We don’t want a list of what to pack for us. We want a list of what to pack for you.”

  The words spun in August’s head and added up to nothing. They never found their purpose.

  “Still not getting it.”

  “August. Jeez. What does it take? Do I have to draw you a map? You’re going.”

  “I’m going?”

  “You’re going. We’re taking you with us. Why do you think I kept saying we’d have a great visit? Even though we’re leaving in the morning?”

  August didn’t answer. Instead he held perfectly still and tried to catch up. To let reality change for him. Adjust to what had been there all along, except in his brain. Or to begin, anywa
y.

  “I can’t drive.”

  “I can.”

  “I’m not good on those stairs.”

  “We’ll get you up and down them.”

  “I can’t—”

  “August, stop. It doesn’t matter what you can’t. You don’t have to. We’ll do it all. Just like you did for us. We didn’t have anything to contribute that summer. You just took us anyway. You just did it all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Never been surer of anything in my life.”

  Again, August struggled in silence. He wanted to express some kind of gratitude, but he hadn’t caught up yet. Everything was happening so fast. Besides, Seth didn’t give him time.

  “Now what should I pack, August? Can I print out that list?”

  “But we don’t need a whole summer’s worth of stuff just to go to Joshua Tree and Yosemite.”

  “August. You’re running on slow again. Did you see all that stuff we hauled up here on the bus? We’re not just going to Joshua Tree and Yosemite. We’re going both places, but they’re just an appetizer. We’re going out all summer.”

  “Where?”

  “You don’t get to know that yet. Now come on. We have to leave first thing in the morning. Let’s get you packed. You point to it, I pack it. Let’s go.”

  “I hate to even ask this,” August said, halfway through the socks and underwear. “But I think I have to. I didn’t budget for gas the way I usually do. I don’t have enough money for a very long trip.”

  “It’s on us,” Seth said.

  “You rob a bank?”

  “Nope. Got a credit card. They push them hard on college students. Don’t freak out, and don’t lecture. I know it’s not free money. I know it has to be paid back. But I don’t care. I’ll work all year to pay it back. We’re doing this.”

  “One more thing you have to bring,” Seth said.

  He handed a stack of folded clothing to Henry at the bedroom doorway, and Henry disappeared with it.