Gone (Michael Bennett)

They looked at each other for a beat, then started running. Brian in the lead, Ricky second, and Eddie dead last.
    Brian stopped raising dust as he got to the ridge of the sandy riverbank. He just stood there, smiling. He stared at the sun twinkling silver off the fast-rushing water, stared at the green-brown surface of it, curving through the dry landscape like a ribbon of living glass. The slightly alkaline scent of the water was strong in the dry air. He’d never really smelled water before, at least not clean water.
    I’ve done it , Brian thought. Set a goal for myself and accomplished it. A pointless one, maybe, but still. It felt pretty awesome.
    “Hey, you did it! You actually found it, Pocahontas!” Eddie said, giving him a high five.
    “Of course I found it,” Brian said nonchalantly as he leaped off the berm and down the sand, toward the rushing water.

CHAPTER 69
     
    THEY WERE SPLASHING AROUND and skipping rocks twenty minutes later, when they saw the kayak come around the bend upriver.
    The aging hippie in it smiled as he expertly paddled over to the shore beside them. At first, Brian got a little scared because the guy sort of looked like the Unabomber. But when he stepped out of the Day-Glo-yellow kayak twenty feet away, he was wearing rubber fishing waders that went up to his chest.
    Just some harmless old nut fishing , Brian told himself.
    The hippie lifted a palm after he beached the kayak.
    “How,” he said like an Indian, then threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry. Always wanted to say that,” he said with a twinkling, blue-eyed wink. “Name’s McMurphy. Pleased to meet you, boys. You must be new around here. What brings you intrepid wanderers out this far into the great beyond? I don’t see any fishing poles. Let me guess. Fame, fortune, and adventure?”
    “Boredom, actually,” Eddie said.
    The man threw back his head again and cackled some more.
    “Boredom,” McMurphy said, tapping a finger against his forehead. “That’s a good one, son. Boredom will work fine, too.”
    Wow , Brian thought, staring at the guy’s wild eyes, his wild gray hair. This guy was pretty nutty. Too many tabs of acid? he wondered. He reminded him of someone. An old sixties actor. Dennis someone. He seemed harmless enough, at least.
    Maybe this is what happens to you if you stay out here too long , Brian thought, glancing at the coot. He almost felt like asking him if he was once in the witness protection program, too.
    “Holy cow! There you are!” came a shrill voice as they heard some rustling in the trees up the bank behind them.
    They looked up to see Juliana at the top of the sandy berm. She was sitting atop one of Mr. Cody’s horses, Spike, wearing riding boots like she was the Queen of England. Of course , Brian thought. They always let Miss Perfect do everything cool. Juliana could do anything she wanted.
    “Everybody is looking for you,” Juliana said, staring at Brian. “What the heck are you doing?”
    “Hello there, little lady. McMurphy’s the name,” the hippie said with a courtly little bow. “These boys with you?”
    Juliana nodded.
    “I was about to ask them if they wanted to learn how to fly-fish. Love to teach you, too. Why don’t you tie up that noble steed there on a branch and come on down? What’s his name?”
    “Spike,” Juliana said.
    “Spike. Well, of course. Fine name for a fine horse. Speaking of which, what’re your names?”
    “We’re the Warners,” Juliana said immediately.
    Brian sighed. Warner was the name they were supposed to use when coming into contact with strangers. Juliana’s just so responsible, isn’t she? he thought. She should really get a medal or something.
    “How many of you Warners are there, anyway?” McMurphy asked. “You guys seem to keep popping out of the trees like squirrels.”
    Brian and Juliana exchanged a glance.
    “Just the four of us,” she said.
    “Staying out at Mr. Cody’s place, is that right?” the hippie wanted to know.
    How’d he know that? Brian thought.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. McMurphy, but my brothers need to get going. My, um, dad needs their help.”
    “Your dad? Wait, I think I’ve met you before. You came to church with that nice old Irish priest, right?”
    “No,” Juliana said. “You must be mistaken.”
    “Mysteries and wonders,” McMurphy said, nodding. “Now, now. Listen to me jawing, chewing your ear off, prying into your business. Just ain’t right neighborly, is it? I apologize.