42

Sometimes you have to move forward on faith. Rufus had taught me that. When I’d asked him once about getting around as a blind man, he’d told me a bunch of stuff about having a sixth sense I didn’t really believe, but he’d also said something that had stuck with me: sometimes you just had to move forward, take a chance. Standing still didn’t help you figure anything out. Moving did.

So, it was time for me to move.

I peered down into the ravine again and then at the small outcropping on the other side. The jump was doable. I’d have to fall about eight feet, and of course jump far enough to bridge the gap, but technically, I thought, it was possible. As long as my aim was good, I had plenty of room to land. Sure, I could bust an ankle or sprain my wrist, but not if I rolled with the landing. I’d spent over thirty years making dangerous leaps from trees, rooftops, and ledges, and so far I’d managed to walk away from every one of them. The only difference between this and leaping from the roof of a house or a tree limb was the small margin for error I had if I missed my landing. Two feet off to either the left or right would kill me. Not to mention I was taking it on faith that once I made it to that ledge, there would be another ledge I could use to make my way down into the ravine. Or up if possible.

I decided to buy some more time by calling Ronnie.

“Earl!” he said in a sharp whisper.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in a bad spot here.”

“What’s happening?”

“One of the kids spotted me and must of told somebody inside. These two jackasses are out here with guns. I found a tree to hide in. Hold it. They’re coming.”

I was silent, listening as the wind blew into the receiver, mixing with Ronnie’s heavy breathing. I heard voices from far away, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. A long time passed like this, and eventually the voices faded away. Ronnie’s breathing slowed. The wind died down.

“Earl? You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. You okay?”

“They’re gone. Can you bring the truck to the gate and pick me up?”

“I’m sort of in a bad way myself. You may have to get out on foot and walk to your truck.”

“Oh shit. Yeah. That’s all the way down the mountain. It’s a walk, but I guess I can do it.”

“I’m about to go across a ravine.”

“A what?”

“I’ll call you when I get to the other side.”

“I better come help you.”

“No,” I said. “Somebody needs to take care of Goose and keep an eye out for Rufus.”

“You gonna be gone a long time, Earl?”

I looked down at the river. “Maybe.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I gotta go, Ronnie. Take care of yourself.”

“Earl?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For caring about me.”

I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t have to say anything. He ended the call. I turned to face the ravine and realized I didn’t have a choice now.