Gunnar put a finger to his lips, motioning for Early and me to wait as he raised his lantern and walked into the clearing. We quickly found a better spot behind a large oak tree, where we could see but were still hidden.
“Greetings to you, gentlemen.” Gunnar’s voice boomed out of the darkness, startling the three pirates. “Might I offer you some beef jerky or a cool glass of water on this fine evening?”
MacScott spun around, startled. He stared hard as the giant Norwegian stepped into the lamplight, Gunnar’s undershirt unable to conceal his scarred back and arms. MacScott seemed stunned by the sight. Could he be that repulsed by one man’s scars when he wore his own plain as day?
Finally, MacScott grabbed a large walking stick. “What you can do is tell us if you’ve seen a couple of boys hiking along this trail,” he said, clanging the stick against some hanging camping pots, as if Early and I might fall out of one of them. “My dogs seem fairly sure they’ve been here.”
Gunnar splashed his face with water from a bucket on the porch. “Well, no telling who might have been here while I was away. Two boys, you say? And what do they look like?” He casually took a canister of shaving cream and rubbed foam over his stubbly face. He drew a razor from beside the bucket and proceeded to shave as if he were getting ready to go to church—and looking as if he didn’t have the slightest concern about MacScott and his dogs.
Olson and Long John tried to create a description.
“Well, the little one was kind of skinny.”
“The bigger one was skinny too, just taller.”
“But the shorter one was real chatty.”
Finally, MacScott interrupted the two. “What difference does it make what they look like? There can’t be too many pairs of boys wandering around these woods. Have you seen them or not?”
“Now, there’s no call for the harsh words,” said Gunnar, rubbing the remaining foam off his face. He patted his pockets and offered beef jerky to the whimpering dogs, scratching them behind the ears. “But as I have not seen any two boys of late, like you say, it really makes no difference what they might look like.”
MacScott raised the rifle he’d been cradling in his arm but hung back outside the circle of lamplight. “You think you’re being funny?” He motioned to Olson. “Go look inside.”
Gunnar stood straight, the muscles in his arms twitching.
“I think unless you’re looking for some beaver traps, fish bait, or maybe a fine hunting knife, I am unable to help you gentlemen this evening.”
MacScott rubbed a finger over the gleaming gun barrel. He turned the mauled side of his face into Gunnar’s lamplight. His scars took on an even more mangled look in the flickering light. “Do I look like someone who needs beaver traps or fish bait?”
Olson emerged from the house. “No one there, boss.” Even the dogs seemed to understand, as they gave up their panting and whining.
MacScott kept his eyes fixed on Gunnar. “You may be unable to help us this evening, but we’ll check back.” He placed the gun in its sling.
MacScott and his men gathered up their packs and headed in the opposite direction from where we were hiding. Early and I waited a while longer before giving up our safe spot.
Early was the first to speak, of course. “Gunnar, who do you think would win in a fight between Captain America and Captain MacScott? MacScott has a gun, but Captain America’s shield would protect him from bullets.”
“It’s too late to make a guess, little man. They won’t be coming back tonight, I don’t think. You two go to bed, and we iron it all out in the morning.”
“But the dogs,” I said. “They’ll smell us.”
“They’ll be smelling nothing but menthol for a while.” He held up his hands, giving us a whiff of the shaving cream he had applied generously to his hands and apparently to the dogs’ noses as well.
Early and I crawled into the big bed I’d occupied earlier that day. Gunnar clanked and rummaged around in the cabin while Early and I made our plans. Finally, we heard Gunnar shove a wooden plank against the front door to bar it shut.
When everything was locked up tight, he lowered an extra quilt over Early and me as we pretended to sleep, both of us knowing we would be gone before Gunnar woke up the next morning.
Early and I knew we had to leave. The pirates were looking for us, and we had no business bringing our troubles on Gunnar. The farther away we got from the outfitter’s cabin, the safer he would be. Early and I found our packs, crawled out the bedroom window, and walked away in the dark of night.
It was overcast, so we set off in what we thought was a northerly direction. I had taken only a few steps behind Early when I felt something crunching underfoot. Walnut shells, again.
“Jackie,” Early said once we were far enough from the cabin that Gunnar couldn’t hear, “those pirates really want that bear, and they must think we’re getting close.”
I’d been thinking that myself. But I also remembered Early telling his story of Pi. “I guess so. But MacScott got real interested when you mentioned the part in Pi’s story about caves and buried treasure. Maybe he thinks we know where there’s a secret treasure and he’s going to follow us until he finds it.”
“It doesn’t say treasure is buried in the caves. It says that’s where people go to bury their dark secrets and accidental treasures.”
“Who knows? Maybe he’s got his own dark secrets buried somewhere.”
“Maybe,” Early breathed.
We stopped for a short break to rest our legs and eat a piece of beef jerky. Reaching into my backpack, I found some extra items that had not been in there the night before—a pouch of nuts, dry matches, some chocolate bars, and two apples—and a new flashlight to replace the one that had gotten soaked in the river. I flicked it on and off. It worked.
“Look,” I said, giving Early a chocolate bar. “Gunnar knew we’d run out of food and supplies. I guess we didn’t fool him into thinking we were experienced travelers.” But it was what I found next that left me bewildered.
“What’s that?” Early asked as I pulled out the small rose-colored volume. Gunnar had also known that I’d seen the book.
“It’s a book of poetry. And”—I removed the delicate envelope that was now sealed—“a letter to Emmaline. Why would Gunnar put this in my backpack?” I wondered out loud.
“He wants you to mail it,” Early said in his characteristically straightforward way, which left no room for doubt or rebuttal.
Early took out a fresh box of matches and lit one to shed some light on the book and the letter. The envelope now showed a complete address—Emmaline Bellefleur, Portland Public Library, Portland, Maine.
“Why wouldn’t he just mail it himself?” I asked.
“He needs a proxy.” Early blew out the match. “You know, someone who can act in another person’s place.” I could hear the string of synonyms coming from Early, the walking thesaurus, even before it began. “A deputy, a second, a substitute, a surrogate, a representative, an emissary—”
“I get it,” I interrupted.
“Like, if Captain America needed to keep a Nazi spy from discovering war secrets and keep Red Skull from assassinating the president of the United States at the same time, he could send Bucky as his proxy for one or the other. Probably he’d send Bucky after the spy.”
I studied the letter. “So, Gunnar wants me to be his sidekick.”
Early’s eyes lit up. “Yes, a sidekick. I like that one the best.”
I tucked the envelope and book back in my pack. “Well, that’s a bone best chewed on another day.” Early didn’t seem quite sure what to make of that. “That just means we’ll worry about it later. For now, we’d better keep moving,” I said.
We walked a ways in silence. Early looked up at the night sky as the clouds cleared and found the constellation Ursa Major, the Great Bear. We followed it into the darkness, in search of another great bear—this one on the Appalachian Trail. My feet were heavy, and the woods closed in around us. There was only darkness and danger in front of us. And now there were dogs and pirates behind us. Early’s quest had gone on long enough. It was time to turn back. I opened my mouth to say so, but Early spoke first.
“Jackie?” Early said again.
“Yes, Early.”
“Thank you for coming with me.”
For a moment I didn’t know how to answer him. I could be honest and say, I think you’re crazy and we’re both crazy for looking for this stupid bear. Or maybe, I know you want your brother to be alive, but he’s just not, and nothing is going to bring him back. Or, I only came because my dad didn’t show up and I didn’t want to be alone.
Then the moment passed, my feet kept moving, and all I said was “You’re welcome.”