Jake rose from the ground and went over to my carrier casually. I had nothing to hide so he could dig through it all he wanted.
“Got a tire pump in here, dude?” He began digging through the vast assortment of items I had stored. He used both hands to get to the bottom. “You got everything else in here, so there must be a tire pump.” I looked over his shoulder.
“Toward the bottom, right in the middle.” I even pointed, like that really helped. “What for?”
He held up his prize, my pump. He smiled and went back to his bike. “My front tire’s been low for two days.” He pointed at my rig next. “And you got a low tire on that carrier and on the back of your ride. So I figured we’d take care of that now before the rain hit.” He waved his left hand to the sky.
I hadn’t noticed, but dark clouds were on the horizon in the northwest. Rain was coming and soon.
“We should get going then and find a shelter to ride out the storm. Hopefully it will pass in an hour or two.” I stated the obvious.
“That’s the plan, dude.” I shook my head at him, he smiled. “Bill.” If nothing, Jake had a good nature to him. I could enjoy his company for a little while.
We made a hard ride for a small farmstead about a half-mile up the road and set back about 300 yards. I could tell no one lived there; at least it looked abandoned. I knocked on the door at the main house, no answer. We hightailed it for a small barn as the first drops of the storm began to fall.
Safely inside the barn, barely, the first heavy wave hit. It poured outside. Inside we were dry and safe; the roof didn’t seem to have any leaks. I watched as sheets of water from the summer storm came down all around, the kind of hard rain that gives you an inch or two an hour. Heavy rain falling straight down. There was no wind yet at least. Perhaps that would come in a bit. These storms often came in like that – hard, straight down rain for a few minutes followed shortly after by the winds of change. Typically a change in temperature. Usually a drop in temp, sometimes as much as 15 or 20 degrees.
The late afternoon got darker and colder in the barn as the actual front arrived. I shut the door and hit the switch on my large flashlight that doubled as a lantern. Jake found a couple of chairs further back in the barn and dusted them off as he brought them forward. They weren’t great but they sure beat sitting on the ground. Jake and I plopped down in our seats around the low glow of light coming from the flashlight. Buddy came and laid between us. I looked over at my new companion.
“So Jake from Balsam Lake, tell me about yourself.”
He looked at me and shrugged, then smiled slightly. “Not much to tell really. Just a typical 18-year-old kid from central Wisconsin I suppose.” He leaned back in his chair looking around the barn. “I’ll be a senior this year, if school ever starts again. On the football team, captain actually.” That made sense to me. What he lacked in stature he made up for in brawn. I could tell he was quite fit. “I play full-back. At least I did last year. Hope to be the QB this year. My turn to call the signals.” As with any high school kid, his school life came out first. It’s what he felt truly defined who he was.
“How much family you have in Balsam Lake?” I wanted a little more depth.
“Me, Mom and Dad, an older sister, and a younger brother and sister. My little sister is a terror on wheels. No rules, typical last brat. My older sister is the brains of the family. She’s in college down at the U. Sophomore or junior this coming year. Hard to remember when you’re stuck in a small town. You mostly just worry about your own life, not someone who’s hundreds of miles away.” He looked like he could take or leave his older sister. It was hard to tell if they were close.
“Mom and Dad?” I tried a different angle.
He half laughed and looked closely at me before reaching down to pet Buddy. “Just typical parents, dude. On my back from sunrise to sunset. Watching for every mistake I make. Ray and Dawn, just plain simple small towner’s really. There ain’t nothing special about that pair.”
He apparently didn’t want to talk much about them. I tried more. “So they farm? You said before you had to get back to help them.” He gave me a look like I was crazy and shook his head.
“They’re old, man, like 40-something. Maybe early 40’s. But I have to do all the work around there. I just made them sound like farmers for the girlfriend. You know, ‘Can’t stay too long babe, gotta get home to milk the cows.’ All that stuff. She’s never met them, how would she know?” He could tell from my blank expression I was lost. “Dude, she was squeezing the life out of me down there. She acted like I was staying forever. She practically had kids’ names picked out. She’s sweet and cute, but she ain’t that sweet nor cute. I wasn’t spending another day with that psycho much less the rest of my life. No way.” He smiled and leaned back again.
“So, no farm?” He shook his head. “You live in town?” He nodded. “Okay. You know your folks aren’t really that old. They’re probably only two years older than me. And I’m not old yet.” He grinned, looking over at me again.
“I saw you pedaling out there, Bill. You’re old. I’m almost surprised you don’t have a walker in that pack with you.” I smiled back at him. Funny guy.
A quick flash of lighting briefly illuminated the barn, followed by a loud crack of thunder causing both brave Jake and myself to jump. The winds kicked up, and the rain came down at a harder rate. Our accidental meeting was a good thing. The timing for taking shelter where we did was perfect. Had I been another mile or two up the road who knows what I may, or most importantly – may not, have found.
“I was holding my own, just got a few extra years and pounds on you.” I looked away and listened to it pour outside. Buddy nudged in closer, away from a drip. “Wasn’t counting on rain for my trip.” I looked at Jake. “I was hoping to make another 50 or 60 miles today.” Jake leaned back in his chair and looked my way.
“I felt it coming in my bad knee. Football will do that to you. Make your body old before its time.” He got up and went to my carrier. “Bring any pillows with?” He rummaged through my gear.
“No. No room for the comforts of home. Not at a time like this. Got to travel light.” He looked dejected as he came back and lay down on the dry ground. “How’d you make it four days without food or shelter or bed linens or hardly anything?”
His boyish smile came to life. “I’m resourceful.” I stared and shook my head; that wasn’t enough of an explanation. “You see, when it’s time to eat I pull in some place with girls or old people. I flash them a million-dollar smile and my good boy looks, and they offer me the world. One place, some old woman wanted me to stay until her grandkids showed up. Another place two teenaged girls wanted me to stay for protection. If you got the right attitude or look, they’ll give you anything you want dude. And I mean anything.” He laughed slightly.
“Well I’m trying to avoid people at all costs, so keep that in mind. All I’m trying to do is get to Milwaukee in the next couple of days in one piece. Once I’m there I can put my world back together. I don’t need any trouble or special favors along the way. I figure every time I have to slow down to help someone or get help from someone, well, that creates an opportunity for trouble.” I looked seriously at Jake. “I already saw enough trouble where I came from. I don’t need any more.”
Jake looked passively at me. “Whatever dude. I just do what I got to do to get home. I’m no hero either. I’d rather get home than end up a dead martyr in a ditch. Like I said, it’s ugly out there. You know it. Tomorrow I’ll go home and you go wherever.” He pointed at my supplies. “Tonight, let’s enjoy some of your pork and beans, though. I’m pretty hungry; gonna share?” He gazed at me like a dog begging for dinner. Buddy matched his gaze.
“Yeah. I suppose that’s fine for tonight.” We pulled out two cans of beans and some hard food I had for Buddy. Jake made quick work of his meal. I slowly enjoyed every last bite of mine. Buddy did the lab thing and wolfed down his food faster than either of us.
Within a few hou
rs, the rain started to let up, but darkness followed. This was as good of place as any to hunker down. I gave Jake an extra blanket, and we drifted off into dreamless sleep after a hard day on the bike. With any luck, this time tomorrow night I might make it to Stevens Point, I thought. At worst I’d be close.
Just before turning off the light for the evening, I studied the map from my pack. I’d made about 50 miles that day. I frowned; that wasn’t anywhere near what I needed to do. Another 40 would have been easy if the rain had held off. But 50 was the number. I had to live with that. That meant another 300 to go. At 10 miles per hour, that was two 15-hour days. Perhaps Stevens Point wasn’t any longer possible tomorrow.
Maybe I would shoot off cross-country, I told myself. That would help cut some of the miles off this trip. But I wasn’t sure the map I was using had all the roads that I would need to travel. Maybe the pedaling would get easier tomorrow. But I seriously doubted this chore would get any easier as time went by. I knew it actually.
I listened to Jake snore while lying on the ground some 20 feet from me. I looked at the map again. Balsam Lake was a mere ten miles away. An easy ride first thing in the morning, barely an hour. I’d let Jake tagalong until the road cut off a mile outside of town and then continue on east alone. I didn’t need any detours; I didn’t need any distractions, either. Though Jake was a welcomed distraction, he was still a distraction.
I shut the light off and was asleep by the time my head hit the makeshift pillow.
Chapter 21