The Miles Between

  “What the hell is a visiting teacher?”

  “Seth! Where did you learn that language?”

  “You need to get out more, Mira. Hell is not ‘language.’”

  “Maybe that’s his secret.”

  “Which you still need to tell us.”

  “You better not let Mrs. Wicket hear you talking—”

  “Excuse me?” I say, in a voice loud enough to drown them all out. “May I finish?”

  They quiet and Mira leans forward, her lips pursed in concentration.

  “Regardless of why he asked it, he did. And I told him all I wanted was one fair day. One squared-away, good-guys-win, the-world-adds-up sort of day. Do you think there is such a thing?”

  Aidan grunts. “A fair day? Is this a trick question? Because—”

  “I think there could be,” Mira says. She breathes deeply, looking up into the sky like it holds all the fairness in the world. “Yes. Definitely.”

  Seth doesn’t respond.

  “And you?” I prompt.

  He opens his mouth and then closes it again. He looks at me and then looks back at the road. The ever-smooth Seth is stumbling with his reply. I find it curious, much more interesting than anything he might actually say. “I don’t know if there could be, but—”

  “Stop!” Mira and I scream at the same time. Seth slams on the brakes, and the car screeches to a halt, rocking back and forth. We stare at the middle of the road. A tiny lamb, as white and fluffy as a marshmallow, stands in the dip of the road, his legs spread wide in an awkward stance. He doesn’t move.

  “What the—”

  Our four heads immediately pivot, searching for more sheep on the hillsides.

  “Oh,” Mira sighs. “He must be lost.”

  His little pink nose twitches and my stomach drops. His large black eyes are surrounded by white feathery lashes, and his ears jut forward, the pink veins easily visible. Loose folds of skin hang around his neck, like he is wearing oversized clothes that don’t quite fit him yet.

  “It’s a Cormo,” Aidan says.

  “It’s a lamb, silly!” Mira protests.

  “A Cormo sheep,” he clarifies.

  Seth taps the horn.

  I leap across the seat and pull his hands away. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get him to move out of the middle of the road?”

  “We can’t just leave him here,” I say, opening my door and stepping out. “He’s only a baby. Maybe an orphan.”

  “Wait! The seats! You know what a sheep will do to these seats?”

  I am already an arm’s length from the lamb. He doesn’t move except to lift his soft black eyes to mine. “Hey, fella.” I crouch and hold out my hand. He doesn’t startle so I stretch out farther and touch his muzzle. His nose is cold, but his wool is like warm velvet. He pushes his nose up against my palm.

  Baaaa.

  “Don’t worry,” I say. “We’ll help you find your mama.” I stand and scoop my hands around his middle, and I’m surprised when he snuggles right into my arms. I walk back to the car and scoot in, the lamb close against my chest. Aidan and Mira lean over the seat and run their hands over his back. He flinches for just a moment, then relaxes against me again.

  Seth keeps his hands on the steering wheel. “His mom and dad are probably watching us lambnap him.”

  “Nope!” Mira proclaims.

  “Doesn’t look like it to me either,” Aidan says.

  “We’ll ask in town,” I tell him.

  Seth puts the car into gear and moves on. “That is, if there’s a town.”

  “Lodging sign, remember?”

  He glances at the lamb and finally reaches over and briefly touches his leg. “Skinny” is all he says. I nuzzle my face into the lamb’s neck, breathing in the earthy wool and pink skin beneath, and wonder how long it will be before Mira wants to name him.

  9

  THE TOWN OF DRIVBY is clearly marked with a small red sign: POPULATION 344. Our narrow lane wriggles down into a small valley and then forks, looking like it has been cleaved in two by a bunched row of mismatched buildings. Across from them is a patchwork of barns and homes, and tucked somewhere behind them is a towering steeple, which must belong to a church.

  “Which way?” Seth asks.

  “Right!” Aidan says, just in time because Seth is not slowing for directions. “Left looks like it takes you straight on through.”

  Seth veers right, and we find ourselves in what must be the heart of Drivby. Three hundred and forty-four seems a generous estimation for this handful of a town. The first building on the cleaved lane is a café, which has several cars out front, including a long black limousine. A motorcycle flanks one side of the limo, and a rusted-out truck is on the other.

  Seth’s head spins for a second look as we pass. “They must serve some damn good coffee.”

  “I don’t see a gas station,” Mira says.

  “Told you.”

  “Over there. What’s that?” Across the street, past a row of three houses, is a sign, MECHANIC, and in front of a converted barn are two weathered pumps.

  “I’ve never seen pumps like that,” Seth says.

  “They’re just old. I bet they work.” As we get closer, we can see a small sign below the mechanic sign: GASOLINE. And below that, a still smaller sign: FORTUNES.

  “I hope that doesn’t mean that gas costs a fortune. I only have two dollars in my wallet. That won’t get us far. Do any of you have cash?” Seth asks, but looks pointedly at me, like this is all my fault in the first place. Which I suppose it is.

  “Not me,” Aidan answers. “I didn’t know I’d be going anywhere today.”

  “Me either,” Mira says, apologetically. “Des?”

  We hear a small bell as Seth pulls up next to the pumps. He turns the motor off, and I feel them all looking at me. Before I have to respond, a lanky man with grease on his chin appears, all elbows and angles and smiles. “Morning. Fill ’er up?”

  Seth looks at me and raises his eyebrows. “Sure,” I answer.

  The lanky fellow raises his eyebrows to match Seth’s and leans one arm on the windshield. “Is that gonna be cash? ’Cause we don’t take cards here.” He waits. Do we arouse that much suspicion? Maybe it’s the lamb in my lap. Perhaps he thinks we’re sheep thieves? I don’t have a purse to rummage through, and even if I did, there wouldn’t be any cash. The lamb kicks his feet, and one hoof nicks the glove box. I hear Seth wince.

  I’m thankful for the distraction. I dread telling them we are broke and stuck. “Only a nick,” I say, setting the lamb on the seat between us. I rub my fingers across the small gash like I will be able to rub it out—or maybe, if I rub it long enough, it will grant me three wishes. The glove box falls open like it is dropping its jaw. It’s filled with bundles of papers, but sitting right on top is a tidy clipped bundle of fresh bills.

  My jaw momentarily drops too, but I quickly grab the stack of money and fan it like I knew it was there all along. They are all one-hundred-dollar bills, and there must be at least twenty of them. Seth whistles like I have just produced the Dead Sea Scrolls. I pull one out and smugly pass it to Seth, who hands it to Lanky Man, who holds it up to the sky like he is looking through it. I hope whomever I have borrowed it from is not a counterfeiter.

  “Geez!” Lanky Man says. “Don’t have change for this size bill this early in the day. I’ll have to run across the street to break it.”

  “You have a restroom?” Aidan asks.

  Lanky Man points in the direction of the café. “Louise at the diner don’t mind if I send customers down there. Sometimes they buy.” He winks and inserts the gas nozzle into the tank. “Her blueberry bread pudding is something to marvel at, just in case you was wonderin’. Be right back.” He runs across the street, the hundred-dollar bill waving in his hand, and disappears inside a post office that is not much wider than the front door. Aidan hops out and heads for the café, and Mira tells us she’ll be right back too and is on his heels.


  Seth and I share a silent five seconds, which seems like three class periods with Miss Boggs, until finally the lamb breaks our awkward silence. Baaaa.

  “Maybe he needs to go too.” I scoop up the lamb and reach for my door.

  “You always carry stacks of hundreds in your glove box?”

  I pause without looking back at Seth. “Or maybe he’s hungry. I wonder what he eats.”

  “This really your car?”

  I turn to look at Seth, hugging the lamb close to my chest. “I think you know.”

  “What he eats?”

  “It’s not mine.”

  “The lamb?” His fingers tighten around his thighs. I stare at him, my lips drawn tight. How easygoing is Seth, really? I am tempted to find out, to blow away his steady calm and easy smile. But the hour is early, we have miles to go, and though I am tempted, I am not foolish. Besides, I know he’d prefer to hear a duller reply anyway.

  “Yes. The lamb. Not mine. Let’s see if we can find his mother.” I pull on the handle to get out and feel Seth’s hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “What’s your secret?”

  I shrug him away and get out. “I have no secrets.”

  “Everyone has secrets, Destiny.”

  My bones loosen, like there is slack in every joint. I think it is the first time I have ever heard him use my full name. I didn’t even know he knew it. “I didn’t see you clamoring to share your secret when Mira asked.”

  “I was just being polite, letting her and Aidan go first.”

  Baaaa.

  “Precisely,” I whisper in the lamb’s ear, before I set him down. He scampers over to a chubby tuft of grass growing near the barn. I look back at Seth. “So I can still expect to hear yours?”

  “I think I might go use that restroom too,” he says. He gets out and stretches like we’ve already been in the car for hours. “I’ll ask at the café if anyone knows about the lamb.”

  Lanky Man returns before Seth can leave. “Here we go,” he says, several bills replacing the one he left with. The pump has shut off, and he makes change for us, handing it to Seth, who hands it to me. A large woman exits the barn. She wears a blue sleeveless housedress that undulates with each step. One of her arms is almost as big as Lanky Man’s waist. I think I need to rename him Jack. Her smile reveals a missing front tooth. “This here’s my wife, Belle. Her sister tells fortunes ’round back if you’re interested.”

  “Well, what do we have here!” she says, bending over and petting the lamb.

  “We found him on the road half a mile back,” I tell her. “Do you know of any flocks nearby? We wanted to find his mother.”

  She scratches her head. “No one raises sheep around here.”

  “A flock passed by a few days ago,” Lanky Man Jack says. “On their way to market, I think. Long gone by now, though.”

  “To market?” Seth mumbles.

  “But he is a nice one.” Belle puts her hands around the lamb’s tummy like she is measuring him and then stands huffing from the effort. “A little skinny. I could fatten him up pretty quick, though. I’d be happy to take him off your hands.” Her smile widens to cavernous proportions.

  “No, thanks!” Seth runs to the lamb and picks him up. He tucks him tightly under his arm. “Lucky’s coming with us!”

  “Lucky?” I say.

  “It’s a good name,” he says defensively.

  “It sounds like a dog’s name.”

  “Hey, we’re lucky we didn’t hit him, right?”

  I shrug and roll my eyes. “Okay.”

  So now we have named the lamb. Or more precisely, Seth has named the lamb.

  We thank Lanky Man Jack and Belle for the gas. Seth says good-bye, but I don’t. I never do, because good-bye sounds like forever and you never know if you might see someone again. No one does. We leave to get Aidan and Mira without saying another word, the lamb and a hastily pulled tuft of grass tucked firmly between us.

  Lucky.

  I can’t help wonder if Seth told me part of his secret without even meaning to.

  10

  WE SIT IN THE CAR outside the café waiting for Aidan and Mira to emerge. Seth has forgotten about using the restroom and has suddenly become engrossed with the lamb now that he has named him. He strokes Lucky’s neck and hand-feeds him a blade of grass at a time.

  I resist the urge to pull Lucky away and feed him myself. It is not wise to become attached, and I am afraid that today I have not been wise at all. I feel a momentum stirring. Aidan would dismiss me and this feeling with a disparaging remark, but now he is caught up in the momentum too, whether he likes it or not. Why else would he climb into a car and jeopardize his perfect record at school unless some things are beyond even his control?

  Seth is so wrapped up in the lamb he has forgotten me for now, and that suits me fine. But Mira won’t forget. When she returns, she will expect me to pay up with my secret. I have plenty, but none that I am willing to share. She should know that by now, just as I should have known this escapade wouldn’t go well. That is the trouble with cars and small spaces. People think they must fill them with talk. Maybe that is why Hedgebrook has suited me so well for so long. Meals are brief, gardens and lawns are spacious, and classrooms strict. Even the counseling sessions I must attend are, for the most part, quiet. Some things simply should not be shared with anyone.

  Mira wants a secret? I could tell them my real reason for wanting to go to Langdon, but then, that might ruin everything. My parents are in Langdon, and the others may know my parents and I are estranged. I love that word. It sounds warm and exotic, when its meaning is cold and familiar. Even words are not always what they seem.

  We have only traveled eleven miles and half an hour from Hedgebrook, but we may as well be halfway around the world. Even if I wanted to go back now, I couldn’t. But what about the others? I have sealed my fate. Is it fair for me to seal theirs too? Is it possible for a day to be fair for everyone? Who knew that throwing a single day into a trash can could lead to so much?

  “Do you think he needs milk?”

  “You’d have to ask Aidan, the Cormo authority, that one. But he seems to be quite happy with the grass. He’s young, but he’s not a baby.”

  A baby. At least give the baby a kiss, Destiny.

  But I couldn’t and didn’t. He wouldn’t be a baby anymore, either. My brother’s in Langdon too. The one they kept with them.

  “Des?”

  I startle. “Oh. Did you say something?”

  “Welcome back. I just asked what you think is taking them so long.”

  “At least a hundred things,” I answer, “and they probably all have to do with Mira. You know how she is.”

  “Let’s get them.”

  We get out of the car, leaving Lucky curled up on the seat counting sheep. Or does he count people? I peek through the café window and see that it’s packed. We step inside and look for Aidan and Mira.

  “You think Lucky will be okay out in the car?” Seth asks.

  “I don’t think Belle is going to run down the street and eat him, if that’s what you mean.”

  We spot Mira down a hallway standing between two doors marked with restroom signs. She waves wildly when she sees us, and we make our way around crowded tables. A few of the patrons turn and look at us. Our school uniforms make us look like preppy security guards. “We need to lose these clothes,” I whisper to Seth.

  “You’re Miss Got Bucks. Let’s go shopping.”

  Mira jiggles like she has ants in her pants and waves us close.

  “The restroom’s right there,” Seth tells her. “Why don’t you use it?”

  “I don’t have to go!” she whispers, and points to the men’s room. “Aidan’s in there.”

  Is Mira finally showing her true neuroses? She lets out a frustrated breath of air. “He’s in there with the president! Didn’t you hear?”

  “What president?” I ask.

  “The president!”

  Seth laug
hs and leans back against the opposite wall. “You mean as in commander-in-chief president?”

  “As in president of the United States?” I ask. “Oh, sure.”

  “Yes! And his Secret Service agents too!”

  “She’s lost it,” Seth says, putting his arm out to open the restroom door.

  “I have not!” Mira insists, grabbing his arm and stopping him. “We found out this is one of the routes he takes on his way to his presidential retreat. He adores the blueberry bread pudding here, so he makes this a pee stop. When blueberries are in season, that is.”

  The restroom door opens and two men step out, both wearing dark glasses, dark suits, and dark expressions. I hear Seth draw a deep breath. They certainly look like Secret Service.

  The door opens again. Aidan steps out, a tight-lipped grin smeared across his face. He leans in close to the equally tight-lipped men and whispers, “He told me to tell you he had some other business to take care of. He might be a while.”

  “Thanks, son,” one of them replies. “It was a pleasure to hear your thoughts.”

  Aidan nods. “Any time.” He swaggers past us and makes his way out the front door. We follow after him like a three-car train, maneuvering around tables, Mira as the caboose, pushing on my back and stepping on my heels. As soon as we burst through the door, Aidan’s tight lips disappear and he jumps into the air hooting. “I peed next to the president of the United States! Side by side! He asked me a question!”

  Mira’s and Seth’s questions tumble over each other, leaving no room for Aidan to answer.

  “How could you pee?”

  “What did he ask you?”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Were you nervous?”

  “What did you say?”

  Aidan’s eyes are wide as he speaks, his voice free of its usual reserve as he recounts his moment of glory. “I had no choice. I had to pee. I think the Secret Service guys saw it in my eyes and didn’t want an incident that would make the evening news. They let me right on through. It wasn’t until I unzipped that I realized who I was next to. He said he was on his vacation, and I remembered he’d been criticized for taking time off and that’s when I told him my theory.”