Jake ran through the high grass. He hoped there weren’t any snakes around. He had seen one sunning itself on a rock near Thunder Creek last summer. But it was still cold. The snow had only just melted, and the snakes would still be hibernating. He hoped.
Reaching the fence, he climbed over and looked toward the McNash house. He hoped Mrs. McNash wasn’t looking out the back window. Despite what he had said to Tommy, he didn’t want to get her mad.
She was like a mother bear protecting her cubs when she got angry.
I am a soldier, racing across no-man’s-land to enemy territory, he thought. I must not be seen. He dashed across the yard and pressed himself against the wall of the barn, breathing hard. There was no sound from the house.
With a sigh of relief, he turned and peered through the barn window. It was dark inside. He cupped his hands around his eyes to keep out the light, but the window was dirty and he still couldn’t see anything. I must complete my scouting mission, Jake thought. Information is vital to our battle plans.
“What are you doing?” said a voice behind him.
Jake spun around. A boy stood before him. He had blond hair and a pudgy face, and he wore a jacket that was two sizes too big for him. He was just a little shorter than Jake.
“Uh, I…” Jake said. “I’m Jake. I live next door— well, my grandparents do. On Thunder Creek Ranch. I saw you go into the barn and thought I’d come over to say hi.”
The boy turned to look at Jake’s grandparents’ house, a small speck on the other side of the field. “You saw me from there? What were you doing? Spying?”
“No, of course not,” said Jake. “I only noticed because there isn’t usually anyone around. Where are you from anyway? Did your mom and dad buy this place?”
“Nah, it’s my gramp’s place,” the boy said.
“Oh,” said Jake. This was Ned McNash’s grandson? Jake hadn’t even known he had a kid. “I’ve never seen you here before.”
The boy shrugged. “I’ve never been here before. We live in Toronto.”
“Oh,” said Jake again. Toronto sounded like it was a long way away.
“Wanna see the quad bike?” said the boy.
Jake grinned. “Yeah,” he said.
It was dark in the barn and smelled like hay and tractor fuel. Tools hung on the walls, and a tractor stood inside the big doors. Tucked in under the ladder to the hayloft was a brand-new quad bike.
“Gramp just bought it,” the boy said. He climbed on and put his hands on the handlebars.
“Cool,” said Jake. He circled around, admiring it from all angles. His grandparents had an old motorbike they used on the farm, but it was rusted and falling apart. Jake wasn’t allowed to touch it.
“Wanna go for a ride?” asked the boy.
Jake looked up to see if he was joking. “Are you allowed to drive it?”
The boy shrugged. He lifted a helmet off a hook on the wall and slid it onto his head. “Mom won’t care.”
“What about your grandparents?” asked Jake.
“They won’t care either. Hop on.” The boy scooted forward so there was room on the seat for Jake. He pushed the starter button and the motor roared to life.
Jake watched as the boy pushed the bike back from the wall and turned it toward the door. “Do you know how to drive it?” he asked.
“What’s not to know?” the boy said. “Now, are you coming or not?”
Jake hesitated. He had a feeling Mrs. McNash wouldn’t like them taking the bike out. But it looked like fun. And it couldn’t be any harder than driving a go-cart. He had done that lots of times. He grabbed the other helmet and hopped on the back of the bike.
The boy revved the motor. The bike leapt forward so fast that Jake almost fell off the back. He grabbed on to the boy’s jacket, and they sped through the barn doors and into the yard.