Mom, can you find missing people?”
I like to ask my mom questions like that when she’s slightly distracted. In this case, she was getting my Half Dome supplies together on the living room table.
“What do you mean by missing? Like the kids on the milk cartons?” She kinda frowned.
“No — not that. I guess I mean people who might be hiding from someone. Would you be able to find them with all your police help?”
Mom went to the pantry and pulled out some energy bars.
“It depends on the situation. If they changed their name and their social security number, it could take some time. It also depends on where whey went. If they went to another country, it could be impossible. Why do you want to know?”
I wanted to know for Rusty, but I couldn’t say that.
“I’m thinking of running away so I don’t have to be a shoe girl anymore.”
“What? Don’t you even talk like that. Moms can always find their daughters.”
But can daughters always find their mothers?
The supplies I needed for the Half Dome hike made me nervous: rain poncho (it might rain?), moleskin (some weird stuff for blisters and chafing — great), flash-light (we were starting the hike at 6:45 in the morning. Did they think we’d get home after dark?), lots of food (What? No snack bar on the way?), work gloves. . .
“Why do I need gloves?”
Dad came in from the garage carrying his daypack.
“For the cables. You’ll have one on each side of you as you climb up the mountain, They’re metal, and they’ll bite into your hands if you don’t have gloves.”
“That sounds so fun,” I joked. “I just . . . can’t . . . wait.”
“You arranged for that guide, right, honey?” Mom asked.
“Yes, Matt Rainier — from our church. Best in the business. He’s been taking people on these kinds of hikes for years.” There they went, talking like I wasn’t there again.
“What do we need a guide for?”
“Your mom wants to make sure we come back in one piece. Matt knows what to look out for, so I hired him to come along. He’s also a medic and a skilled rock climber.”
“Does Bob know about that?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. He’s very supportive of the whole thing. He wants to protect his employees too.”
As far as I knew, the only people coming on the hike were me, Dad, Flip, Fawn, and some reporter from Outdoor Teen Magazine. So now we had this Matt guy too. I was glad Fawn was coming so I wouldn’t be the only girl. “Well, I wish Bob never planned this trip. I think he should have to go. It sounds too hard.”
“But it won’t be as long as you’re wearing . . . Riley Mae Rock Shockers from Swiftriver!” Dad held up the hikers like he was doing a commercial.
I grabbed one out of his hand. “The person who names these shoes is pretty creative.”
Dad grinned from ear to ear.
“What? Tell me it’s not you.”
“Yeah, it’s me. I am an advertising guy after all. And since I know this Riley Mae girl personally, they thought it would be a good idea for me to name each pair of shoes.”
“How come you never told me that before?”
“Just in case you didn’t like the names — didn’t want you complaining.”
Mom was still stuffing things in my pack. “Okay — I hope that’s everything, because there’s no more room.”
“I want to take my phone so I can text TJ when I’m at the top.”
“You won’t get service up there,” Dad said.
I shoved my phone in a side pocket. “I have faith.”