“I can forget about my family when I’m jumping out of a plane or riding my bike.” Gabriel’s voice was quiet, the words absorbed by the darkness. “Then I slow down and it comes back again…”
29
“All of my early memories are about riding in our car or pickup truck. We were always packing our bags and leaving. I guess that’s why Michael and I were obsessed with having a home.
“If we lived in one place for more than a few weeks, we’d pretend we were going to be there forever. Then a car would drive by our motel more than twice or a gas station attendant would ask Father an unusual question. Our parents would start whispering to each other and they’d wake us up at midnight and we’d have to get dressed in the darkness. Before the sun came up, we’d be back on the road, driving to nowhere.”
“Did your parents ever give you an explanation?” Maya asked.
“Not really. And that’s what made it so scary. They’d just say ‘It’s dangerous here’ or ‘Bad men are looking for us.’ And then we’d pack and leave.”
“And you never complained about this?”
“Not in front of my father. He always wore shabby clothes and work boots, but there was something about him-a look in his eyes-that made him seem very powerful and wise. Strangers were always telling secrets to my father as if he could help them.”
“What was your mother like?”
Gabriel was silent for minute. “I keep thinking about the last time I saw her before she died. It’s hard to get that out of my mind. When we were little she was always so positive about everything. If our truck broke down on a country road, she’d take us out into the fields and we’d start looking for wildflowers or a lucky four-leaf clover.”
“And how did you behave?” Maya asked. “Were you a good child or mischievous?”
“I was pretty quiet, always keeping things to myself.”
“What about Michael?”
“He was the confident older brother. If we needed a storage locker or extra towels from the hotel manager, my parents sent Michael to deal with it.
“Being on the road was okay, sometimes. We seemed to have enough money even though Father didn’t work. My mother hated television, so she was always telling us stories or reading books out loud. She liked Mark Twain and Charles Dickens, and I remember how excited we were when she read us The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins. My father taught us how to tune a car engine, how to read a map, and how not to get lost in a strange city. Instead of studying school textbooks, we stopped at every historical marker on the highway.
“When I was eight and Michael was twelve, our parents sat us down and told us they were going to buy a farm. We’d stop in little towns, read the newspaper, and drive out to farms that had ‘for sale’ signs on the lawn. Every place seemed okay to me, but Father always came back to the truck shaking his head and telling Mom that ‘The terms weren’t right.’ After a few weeks of this, I started to think that ‘the terms’ were a group of mean old women who liked to say ‘no.’
“We drove up to Minnesota, and then turned west toward South Dakota. At Sioux Falls, Father learned about a farm for sale in a town called Unityville. It was a nice area with rolling hills and lakes and fields of alfalfa. The farm was half a mile from the road, concealed by a grove of spruce trees. There was a big red barn, a few toolsheds, and a rickety two-story house.
“After a lot of haggling, Father bought the property from a man who wanted cash and we moved in two weeks later. Everything seemed normal until the end of the month, when the electric power went off. At first, Michael and I thought that something was broken, but our parents called us into the kitchen and told us that electric power and a telephone connected us to the rest of the world.”
“Your father knew you were being hunted,” Maya said. “He wanted to live apart from the Vast Machine.”
“Father never mentioned that. He just said that we were going to call ourselves ‘Miller’ and everyone was going to pick a new first name. Michael wanted to call himself Robin, the Boy Wonder, but Father didn’t like that idea. After a lot of talk, Michael decided to be David and I picked the name Jim, after Jim Hawkins in Treasure Island.
“That was the same night Father brought out all the weapons and showed us where each one was going to be stored. The jade sword was in our parents’ bedroom and we weren’t allowed to touch it without permission.”
Maya smiled to herself, thinking about the valuable sword hidden in a closet. She wondered if it had been propped up in a corner, next to some old shoes.
“An assault rifle was behind the couch in the front parlor and the shotgun was stored in the kitchen. Father kept his.38 in a shoulder holster beneath his jacket when he was working. This wasn’t a big issue when Michael and I were growing up. The guns were just another fact that we accepted. You said that my father was a Traveler. Well, I never saw him float away or disappear or anything like that.”
“A person’s body stays in this world,” Maya said. “It’s the Light within you that crosses the barriers.”
“Twice a year, Father would get in the pickup truck and go away for a few weeks. He always told us that he was fishing, but he never came back with any fish. When he was home, he would make furniture or weed the garden. Usually he’d stop working around four o’clock in the afternoon. He’d take Michael and me into the barn and teach us judo and karate and kendo with bamboo swords. Michael hated practicing. He thought it was a waste of time.”
“Did he ever say that to your father?”
“We didn’t dare challenge him. Sometimes my father would just look at you and know exactly what you were thinking. Michael and I believed that he could read our minds.”
“What did your neighbors think of him?”
“We didn’t know a lot of people. The Stevenson family lived on a farm that was farther up the hill, but they weren’t very friendly. An older couple named Don and Irene Tedford lived on the other side of the stream and they came over one afternoon with two apple pies. They were surprised that we didn’t have electricity, but it didn’t seem to bother them. I remember Don saying that television was a big waste of time.
“Michael and I started going to the Tedfords every afternoon to eat homemade doughnuts. My father always stayed home, but sometimes Mother would take a load of laundry over to their place and wash it in their machine. The Tedfords had a son named Jerry who had died in a war and his picture was all over the house. They talked about him like he was still alive.
“Everything was okay until Sheriff Randolph came up the driveway in his squad car. He was a big man in a uniform and he was carrying a gun. I was scared when he arrived. I thought that he was from the Grid and that Father would have to kill him-”
Maya interrupted. “Once I was in a car with a Harlequin named Libra and we were stopped for speeding. I thought that Libra was going to cut the constable’s throat.”
“That’s how it felt,” Gabriel. “Michael and I didn’t know what was going to happen. My mother made iced tea for Sheriff Randolph and all of us sat on the front porch. At first Randolph just said a lot of nice things about the way we had fixed up the place, and then he began talking about the local property tax. Because we weren’t connected to the power line, he thought we might refuse to pay the tax for political reasons.
“Father didn’t say anything at first, but he kept staring at Randolph, really concentrating on him. All of a sudden, he announced that he’d be glad to pay the tax and everyone relaxed. The only person who didn’t look happy was Michael. He went over to the sheriff and said he wanted to go to school with all the other kids.