Zach knew what he wanted. One more ace. Just one more and he would have a full house. “I need two,” he said looking up at Logan, who was dealing the cards. Leaning over the back of the bus seat, Logan handed him two cards. Zach grabbed them from his best friend, his round, dark eyes never leaving his own set. He strategically placed the two new cards in his hand. The back of the bus was bumpy and nearly everyone had dropped his cards at least once. Everyone except Zach. He was not about to reveal his hand before it was “winning time.”
Logan, Mitch, and Adam drew their cards. “Whatcha got?” Logan asked to no one in particular. Mitch and Adam glanced at Zach.
“You first,” Zach said, still staring at his own cards. “But don’t put ‘em on the seat again. They’ll slide off.”
Adam flipped his long black hair out of his eyes. He showed his cards first, holding them firmly in both hands.
“Beats mine,” Mitch said, his thin, Hmong eyes showing his disappointment. “Crappy pair of fours.” Mitch flipped his cards, revealing the weak hand.
Zach looked up at Logan, who had slumped down a bit, his cards hidden behind the tall seat. Slowly, the cards rose above the top of the slick vinyl. Logan flipped them over slowly. Three tens.
Zach slumped back in defeat. “Crap,” he said, staring at the towering, green pine trees whizzing by.
Logan grinned. They had played six games of poker on the bus ride and Zach had won every one of them.
As Logan reached down to grab his winnings of candy bars and Jolly Ranchers that had nestled up against the crease of the bus seat, Zach grabbed his hand. “Hold on just a second,” he said. “You had three tens, right?”
Logan nodded, but said nothing.
“I must have forgotten the rules for a second, because a full house beats three of a kind, doesn’t it?” Zach flipped over his cards to reveal three eights and two aces. “Suckers! I’ll take these, thank you very much.” Zach grabbed the candy and threw it on the pile he had already accumulated in his backpack. “I believe that makes seven consecutive wins, doesn’t it?”
Zach hopped off his seat, giving high-fives to two giggling girls across the aisle. He didn’t stand as tall as Logan, but he wasn’t short either. He had a long, narrow mouth, which allowed him his famous “Zach smile.” His light freckles surrounding his rounded nose gave him a look of innocence and youth. The girls loved Zach’s freckles.
Logan rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his face. “All right, I’m done,” said Logan.
“But you haven’t even seen my victory dance yet,” Zach said, trying to stay balanced as he swayed his hips back and forth in the bus aisle.
Logan laughed.
“Zach Sutton, sit down!” Mrs. Lomeier yelled from the front of the bus.
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Lomeier!” Zach called back. When she turned her back to him, he laughed softly.
While dancing in the aisle, the jerkiness of the bus tossed him into other groups of kids, knocking his Twins baseball cap off of his head. He bent over, picked up his hat, and smoothed out the wrinkles. He felt naked without it, especially since he had lost “the bet” a week earlier.
Zach was a great baseball player. Even as an eighth grader, the Varsity coaches had scouted him on a few occasions. He was a shortstop and a pitcher. A rocket for an arm.
After practice, Zach, Logan, and three other players had been tossing the ball back and forth. Out of nowhere, Zach called out, “I bet all you fools I can throw twenty strikes in a row.”
Logan and the other players looked at each other. “What are the stakes?” Logan asked.
“I’ll tell you what,” Zach said. “You guys don’t even have to worry about it. If I don’t throw twenty in a row, I’ll buzz my head. If I do throw twenty in a row, we go to McDonald’s after school tomorrow and you guys buy. It’s a win-win for you. Deal?”
“Deal,” Logan said. “I can’t wait to see that bald head of yours.”
Logan got behind the plate, crouched down into a catcher’s position, and yelled, “All right. Throw ‘em in here baldy!”
Zach stood on the pitcher’s mound, staring into Logan’s glove. He breathed in deeply, calming his nerves. Another deep breath. And another.
He blocked out all distractions. The other players yelling at him, the traffic on the busy street adjacent to the baseball diamond, the cool spring breeze chilling his bare arms. Nothing mattered but the leather target in front of him.
He began his windup. Strike one. Strike two …
Zach threw nineteen strikes in a row.
It came down to the last pitch. Another deep breath. The windup. The ball zipped through the air. Zach watched as Logan’s glove moved slightly to his right. It missed the plate by about an inch. He made no argument. A bet was a bet.
Zach went to the barber the next day.
His hat now securely on his head, Zach sat, suddenly somber, staring out the window of the school bus. Minnesota’s north woods flickered by. The repetition of the emerald trees mesmerized him. Shaded by the forest, Lake Superior loomed in the distance, the water stretching to the horizon.
Logan turned around to face Zach again, towering over the top of the seat. He had a long, thin face, with small, narrow eyes. Zach teased him often about his disproportionate facial features. He kept his tight, curly blond hair trimmed neatly. His sideburns were perfectly groomed into small rectangles. Zach had labeled his haircut a “halfro.”
“We just passed Two Harbors, didn’t we?” Logan asked. “Did you talk to your dad? Are you gonna try to see him while we’re up here?”
Zach had battled his mood swings since Chris disappeared, but Logan had always seemed to be there to try to pull him out.
“We aren’t going to be in Two Harbors. How would I see him?” Zach said not taking his eyes off the landscape speeding by.
Logan left him alone.
Zach had created a force field between himself and everyone else on the bus. His eyes stayed fixated on the repetition of the forest. He didn’t speak for nearly an hour, not even to Logan.
Zach had been to this area of Minnesota before. His family had taken a vacation to Duluth a year and a half ago. The north woods and the ocean-sized lake were all too familiar.
Zach’s brother, Chris, at eleven years old, had been two years younger than Zach. They would have been going back to school in just two weeks—Chris would be in fifth grade and Zach, seventh.
“To celebrate the end of summer,” Zach’s mom had said, “we’re going on a fun family vacation.”
But the adventure turned tragic.
Zach dodged in and out of tourists as he and his family walked around Canal Park. Little kids played in the water fountains jetting out from the brick sidewalks. Lake Superior peeked through the rows of hotels in the distance. “Come on, Chris! Let’s go!” he said to his brother, beckoning him to the fountains.
“Hey, Zach, Chris. Your dad and I are going to run into that little gift shop to look for a present for your grandparents. We’ll be back in five or ten minutes, okay? Don’t go anywhere. Stay right here. Zach, you’re in charge,” his mom said.
“Okay, Mom,” Zach called, still darting in and out of the water fountain.
Chris and Zach continued to run and play in the spout. Within minutes Chris began gasping for air and coughing. “Be careful of your asthma,” Zach warned. “Go take a break, man.”
Chris sat down on nearby steps that led to Little Angie’s Cantina, a Mexican restaurant Zach’s family had eaten at the night before.
Five minutes passed. Zach got tired of running, so he stopped. Breathing heavily, he wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand.
He looked toward the steps where Chris had been sitting. They were empty. “Chris?” he called, his eyes darting in every direction. “Chris!” he said again desperately. Zach darted up and down the sidewalk, searching every corner and every alley for his little brother. Chris was nowhere to be seen. He was gone. Missing. Vanished.
The police had searched widely, turning up nothing. No clues.
Zach stayed with his grandparents when his parents traveled back and forth from their home in Minneapolis to Duluth. They made the two and half hour trip at least once a week for a year, working with local police, and taking time off from their teaching jobs.
The only results Zach’s parents had were frustration, depression, and anger. Emotions Zach sensed when his parents walked through the door after each trip.
The fighting between his mom and his dad became depressingly familiar. They fought constantly over Chris’s memorial.
“It’s like we’re giving up!” his mom screamed.
“We aren’t giving up,” Zach’s dad said. “I promise, I will never give up looking for Chris. I know he is out there somewhere. Just think of this as a way to pay tribute to him. It doesn’t mean he’s gone. I will find him. But in the meantime, let’s let everyone pay their respects. It’s what everyone wants.”
“I don’t care what everyone wants! This is our child!”
Zach heard the argument over and over. He never quite understood his dad’s position. If Chris was still alive, “out there somewhere,” then why bother with the memorial? His dad’s famous phrase quickly became, “We’ll find him. We’ll find him. Don’t worry.” It always made Zach feel like his dad knew something he wasn’t telling them. It made him curious and it enraged his mom, sparking argument after heated argument between his parents.
One year after Chris’s disappearance, the memorial was held. He still hadn’t been found and there still were no real clues. No one knew where he was or who had taken him, but Zach knew he was partly to blame. He was supposed to be “in charge” and he had failed. He had let Chris disappear. He had caused his parents to separate. He had made his dad move out.
Mrs. Lomeier grabbed the PA system now at the front of the bus, her caked on makeup hiding her ghostly white skin. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please?” She waited for the thirty eighth-graders to calm down and listen. “We will be at Pine Ridge in about fifteen minutes. So, start packing up your things. When we get off the bus one of the center’s leaders will be there to greet us and give us instructions. Be on your best behavior and listen carefully and respectfully.” Uncharacteristically, she smiled, and said, “Oh. And don’t forget, we are going to have a lot of fun up here!”
Zach snapped out of his slump and joined the other students in their cheering.
Logan got his things in order, grabbed Eragon, one of the three novels he was reading, opened it and tried to finish the chapter he was on before they got to Pine Ridge. “Come on, man. Can’t you put that thing down for one minute?” Zach heckled, peering over the back of Logan’s seat, his mood light and satirical once again.
“I just gotta finish this chapter, then I will.”
“All right, nerd.” Zach fell back down into his seat, then grabbed Adam and put him in a headlock for no particular reason. Just as Adam was able to free himself and have a good laugh, the bus came to a halt. A big green sign was gazing through the window at them: Pine Ridge Environmental Learning Center. Zach hopped up, grabbed his backpack, and playfully knocked Logan on top of his head, which was still buried in his book. “Let’s go Einstein,” he said.
“Yep, coming.” Zach could hear Logan slam his book shut and stuff it in his backpack. Logan was right behind him as they headed toward the exit.
When he stepped off the bus, Zach looked around. “Dude, this is sweet,” he said.
“Yeah, and just think, you almost didn’t get to come,” Logan replied.
“I know. My mom’s freaking out right now.”
Logan laughed. “You’ve been freaking out a little too.”
“What are you talking about?” Zach asked with a smirk on his face.
“Are you serious right now? You’ve never got below a B until this year. And you’re gettin’ in trouble almost every day. I bet Lomeier has sent you out of class fifty times this month.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Seriously. You should be happy your mom let you come.”
“She didn’t just ‘let me come’. I have to be a good little boy on this trip. I can’t get into any trouble and I have to get all my grades up when I get back. Otherwise I have to go live with my dad in Two Harbors.”
“I know, but at least you’re here. Just don’t screw up. Then go home and start working harder at school. You shouldn’t be getting D’s in eighth grade classes. They aren’t hard,” Logan said.
“I know they aren’t hard, Einstein.” Zach made his fingers into circles and put them to his eyes as if they were glasses. “Look, I don’t want to move to Two Harbors. As nice as it would be to get away from you, it’s not exactly my dream to move to Hick Town, Minnesota.”
Logan laughed.
“Plus, when my parents got divorced all dad talked about was wanting to be closer to the ‘scene of the crime.’ He just left and took that new teaching job at UMD. I don’t want to be reminded of Chris every minute of the day like he does.”
“I know you don’t. It’s hard enough for you to deal with it now,” Logan said.
“What are you talking about?” Zach asked.
“Never mind,” Logan said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean, ‘don’t worry about it?’”
“Well, it’s pretty clear that you’ve changed a lot since Chris disappeared. No one blames you for it. I think most people would act the same way if they lost a brother like that. That’s all I’m saying.”
Zach turned away from Logan. He suddenly felt angry.
Logan put his hand on Zach’s shoulder and decided to leave him alone. He took a step toward Adam and Mitch who were congregating nearby.
Zach stopped him. “Remember a couple of months ago when my mom threatened to make me quit baseball if I didn’t get my grades up?”
Logan turned to face Zach again. “Yeah, I do.”
“That never happened, did it? She never made me quit.”
Logan shook his head. “Nope. And you didn’t get your grades up either.”
“My mom’s not gonna send me to live with my dad. No way.”
“Maybe not,” Logan said. “But be careful anyway. Don’t risk it.”
Zach walked in front of Logan, leading him toward the other students. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I’ll be good, Mommy.”
Logan chuckled behind him.
The teachers waited for all the students in the parking lot. Mrs. Lomeier wore a cotton-stocking cap, covering her wiry, gray hair. She directed traffic, pointing kids toward the campfire pit like an airport runway worker. Zach tried not to make eye contact with her. He was in her Science class and was getting a D. Zach was convinced she had it in for him. Sure, he would talk to his friends while she was lecturing about kingdoms or phylum, but she always seemed to pick on him when everyone else was talking too. One of the few times he paid attention in her class was when she showed a video of a previous Pine Ridge trip. It was from 1992, the first year Mrs. Lomeier had chaperoned the trip from Poplar Grove Middle School. Zach laughed at the kids’ hairdos and clothes, but the trip looked awesome. He could only imagine the look on Mrs. Lomeier’s pale, wizened face when he turned in his Pine Ridge permission slip.
Next to Mrs. Lomeier was Mr. Foster. Although Zach successfully avoided eye contact with Mrs. Lomeier, he quickly turned to Mr. Foster and gave him a high five. He was Zach’s favorite teacher. Zach was getting a C in his social studies class, which was one of his highest grades. Mr. Foster had short, black hair and he wore jeans almost every day. He had a lot of energy and genuinely cared about his students. Zach appreciated that.
The other four chaperones waited by the campfire pit, rounding up students. Mr. Loeb was a popular veteran English teacher, Miss Pliska, a young, pretty social studies teacher who every male student seemed to be in love with, Mrs. Connelly, a soft-spoken special education teacher, and Mr. Preston, Adam’s father and the lone parent volunteer Mrs. Lomeier had conned into chaperoning the trip. Most of the students and teachers wore winter hats, gloves, and warm coats. Early April in northern Minnesota still bared harsh signs of winter.
Zach and Logan still lingered in the parking lot. The other students were running around like chickens, happy to be free of the school bus. Zach, however, stood still. An odd odor had frozen him. It made its way slowly to his nostrils. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was an unfamiliar smell. But it burned the inside of his nose just enough to make Zach uncomfortable.
He turned to Logan. “You smell that?” Zach asked.
“Smell what?” Logan replied.
“You seriously don’t smell that? It’s terrible!”
“I don’t smell anything except for pine trees,” Logan clarified.
“Wow, really?”
Logan just shrugged.
“That’s messed up. It’s burning my nose right now.”
Logan looked toward the Pine Ridge campus. “Come on. Let’s head over there with everyone else,” Logan said, already in stride toward the campfire pit.
Zach shook his head, ridding himself of the odor. Then he tore after Logan, passing him despite his head start. When he reached the fire pit he jumped on Adam’s back. “Ride ‘em cowboy!” he yelled.
“Zach, please carefully dismount your horse,” Mr. Loeb said.
Zach jumped off Adam’s back, laughing.
The Pine Ridge campus formed a circular pattern. The buildings had an earthy, gray tone, allowing them to blend in with their surroundings. Directly to the left of the parking lot where the students were dropped off was the rectangular administration building. Then, curving gradually up a small incline were the three dormitories the students would be staying in. Down a small hill were the classrooms, which wound around toward the campfire pit. Directly behind the fire pit was the cafeteria, hidden partially by a thicket of pine trees. Surrounding the buildings were miles and miles of forest, hills and scenery waiting to be explored.
Once all the students had made their way to the campfire pit, Mrs. Lomeier and Mr. Foster joined them. “Okay, listen up everyone,” Mrs. Lomeier began. “Please get together with your roommates.” The students had been allowed to choose one friend they would room with in the dorms. Four kids to a room. Zach and Logan stood next to each other. They both gazed into the crowd, looking for the other pair they would be rooming with. Michael Tynes and Tristan Phillips eased their way through the mob and stood next to Logan and Zach, refusing to make eye contact.
Zach didn’t really know Michael and Tristan personally, but he had seen the bullying they suffered each and every day. He knew they were a couple of the smartest kids in the eighth grade. Right up there with Logan. But being smart wasn’t the problem. Michael and Tristan were always showing everyone how smart they were.
At lunch one day, the two were working on math problems in the cafeteria. Zach was sitting a couple of tables away from them, talking to his friends about his three for four outing on the baseball field the day before.
His conversation was interrupted. The entire cafeteria was laughing. Michael had mashed potatoes draped all over his shirt. Someone had thrown them at him.
Zach didn’t laugh.
Michael stood stiffly by the campfire pit now, watching the other groups find each other, his glasses fogging up in the cold.
Being a good three inches shorter than the other three, Tristan glanced up at Zach and Logan. When Zach turned toward him, he turned his head away and stared at the ground.
“What’s up, guys?” Zach said.
“Hey,” Michael said shyly.
“Hi.” Tristan followed Michael’s lead.
After all the groups had been assembled, Mrs. Lomeier began with her directions. “All the boys will be in cabin number one and all the girls will be in cabin number two. Your chaperones will assign you a room number when you get there. So, grab your stuff and follow either Mr. Loeb or myself.”
“Let’s go fellas,” Zach said, picking up his bags. The four of them, along with the rest of the boys, followed Mr. Loeb to the boys’ cabin. The girls walked on the other side of the path to their dorm.
Zach sprinted to the front of the line, trying to get into the cabin first. “Oh, thanks for holding the door for everyone, Zach,” Mr. Loeb said as he pulled open the door and waited for Zach to hold it.
Zach put on the “Zach smile,” dropped his bag, grabbed the door and said, “That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Loeb. Anything I can do for you.”
Mr. Loeb patted him on the head and led the rest of the group into the dorm.
After the last boy entered the cabin, Zach bent down and picked up his bag, but he paused before entering. Out past the campfire pit, where the dense pine tree line began, was a figure. Someone standing, motionless.
Zach took a couple of slow steps away from the building. He moved down the path, toward the strange sight, trying to see more clearly. But just as his eyes refocused, giving him a closer glimpse, the shadowed image turned, and oozed back into the darkness of the trees.