Ashton Daigle

The farther northwest they drove, the grayer the skies became and the harder the winds began to buffet the tiny caravan. Still, even against the cold bleak backdrop, the rugged land was beautiful. The grayness only added a sense of surrealism, which William Chambers pointed out, as he maneuvered the van through hills, valleys and windy country roads.

Once again, William seemed to be in his element, reveling in tales of his boyhood playing in the rugged forests near the cabin. As William continued to amuse and drive, Ryan found himself hoping that he and Max were wrong, that the headmaster had nothing to do with the strange goings on at Piedmont in the days before the trip.

Ryan only had a few moments earlier that day, before they left, to speak with Max. It was a brief conversation, but Ryan told Max where he could find a list of all the soldiers he tried and got convictions for at both Abu Gharib and Guantanomo Bay.

“Make sure everybody is still locked up tight where they’re supposed to be,” Ryan told Max. “No body should be out yet. If they are, let me know immediately.”

Ryan too, had an extra cell phone that no one knew the number to. He instructed Max to call him there if he discovered anything, or if he saw anything peculiar while he was tailing them.

As of yet, William had still not told Ryan that Max was tailing them. Ryan looked on, at the back of William’s head just wondering.

Ryan rode in a back seat next to Victoria. Both Trisha and Manuel Escobar suffered from car sickness, so they each took turns riding shotgun with Walter up front.

Before leaving Piedmont, Trisha had managed to slip off to visit Jason at the garage. Since the small office was so visible, Jason led her to a small storage room and locked the door behind them. Although pressed for time, they managed to slip in a quickie, before Trisha made one of her real reasons for the visit known.

“What about the blow?” she asked him, as they slipped on their clothes.

Jason sort of rolled his eyes at her as he slid his jeans back on.

“What?” she asked, catching his gaze.

“You’re funny,” he replied, as he slipped his sweater on and finally reached into his pocket, pulling out a baggie of cocaine. “I haven’t even split any of it up yet.”

“Let’s just do some,” she said. “Can’t we just split it up later?”

“Under all those prying eyes,” Jason said.

He then pulled a legal pad from one of the store room shelves and dumped some coke onto it. He handed her a dollar bill and his lighter.

“Here,” he said, handing her the legal pad. “Lay the bill on top of the pile and use the edge of the lighter to grind it all down. I’m going to look for something. I’ll be right back.”

Jason exited the store room. As he did, Trisha looked up, saw he was actually gone and used her visitor’s card to prepare a line. It must have taken her longer than she thought, though, because Jason returned just as she was leaning over the legal pad, snorting a big line.

She looked up and grinned slightly and muttered, “Sorry, I got a little impatient.”

Again, Jason just smiled.

“It’s allright,” he said. “I actually did a couple lines before you got here. But then that guy showed up. Ron…Uhm…”

“Ryan,” Trish said.

“Yeah,” Jason replied. “He was helping me load up snow chains, and change the oil. He seems like a pretty cool guy. I mean, not with blow. I don’t think anybody would be cool about that.”

“No, absolutely not,” Trish said. “I wanted to offer some to Victoria the other day, but thought better of it.”

“The head shrink lady?” Jason asked. “Definitely not cool. I hate to say it baby, but I think this is a secret that’s going to have to stay between me and you.”

“What did you say?” Trisha asked.

“I said it’s a secret that’ll have to be between just me and you,” Jason said, as he unzipped a shaving kit he carried in with him.

“No, before that,” Trisha said.

“Oh,” Jason said, realizing what she meant. “Excuse me. I didn’t mean to. It just came out.”

‘No, don’t apologize,” Trisha said. “It’s okay. I think I liked it. It’s just been a long time since anyone called me baby, honey, sweetheart or any sort of term of endearment.”

Jason dug two small plastic and glass contraptions out of his shaving bag.

“What’s that?” Trisha asked.

“It’s called a bullet,” he said. “You can get them at head shops in town.

He then unscrewed the small glass container from its top and explained to her how it worked. As he did this, he filled the glass chamber with cocaine. After a few practice tries, Trisha got the hang of it.

“This is pretty cool,” she said, as she did a hit. “Wow, really good.”

“Just be careful, the top chamber holds about two decent-sized lines,” he warned her.

“It’s almost like an inhaler,” she noted.

“Yeah, but I still wouldn’t try to pull it out and do any in front of anyone,” Jason said. “It’s discrete, but not unnoticeable. There’s enough there to at least get you through tonight.”

With that, Jason tied up the large baggie, stuck it in his jeans, grabbed his shaving kit and began to lead Trisha out of the store room.

“Wait,” she said, placing her hand on his chest.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Just kiss me,” she said.

Jason leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed him back fiercely, practically putting her whole body into it.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up? Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Look Jason, this is just so crazy, all of it. But, whatever happens, I want you to know I’m not just some oversexed senator’s wife. I, really like you. And I care about you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jason said. “I’m totally down with that. I’m totally down with you. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“No,” she said hesitantly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Just this trip,” she said. “All of a sudden it just feels too rushed. I just have a weird feeling about it. Please be careful driving the bus.”

“I will,” he said. “The blow is really just to keep me awake. Your son’s going to be riding with me right?”

“Yes, Steve will be,” she said.

“Which one is he?” Jason asked. “Is he the older dark-haired boy?”

“No, that’s Roger, Ryan’s son,” she said. “Steve has blonde hair, spiked, he sorta has a post 80’s Billy Idol thing going for him.”

Jason nodded and said, “Oh yeah, the sullen, smart ass kid.”

For a brief instant, Trisha wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not, but then realized Jason’s description fit her son to a tee. She nodded and said, grinning, “Yep, that’s the one.”

“What’s his deal?” Jason asked. “I saw him looking funny at me a few times. He doesn’t know anything about you and me, does he.”

“God no,” Trisha said. “Quite honestly, I don’t know what his major malfunction is. Two weeks ago, this trip was all he could talk about. The past few days, though, he almost acts like he doesn’t care about it at all.”

“How old is he?” Jason asked.

“He’s fifteen,” Trisha answered. “He’ll be sixteen in December, next month.”

“Ah,” Jason said, “He’s just at an age. He’s just old enough to be too cool for this sort of thing, but still young enough to sort of be into it. He’s just conflicted. Once we hit the road, and we get out to the cabin and stuff, he’ll probably snap right out of it.”

“Yeah,” Trisha said, amazed by Jason’s insight, and also a little turned on. “You’re probably right.”

—— ——– ——- ——-

Jason wasn’t the only person who’d had a visitor before they left campus. Several hours after breakfast, while everyone was helping to load up the bus and van, Ethan appeared in Bertha’s kitchen as she fiddled with her suitcase and made sure everything was either unplugged or turned off.

“Ethan,” she said, surprised. “Why aren’t you down by the bus helping everyone?”

“I just needed to talk to you,” he said. “I had another dream.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “You and me both.”

“Were there kids in your dream?” he asked her.

“Yes there were,” she replied. “They was singing that awful song bout Goody Cole. Did that happen in yours too?”

“Yes,” he replied. “But there was more too.”

Suddenly, Bertha wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear the rest of Ethan’s dream but she smiled gently and nodded.

“Well, out with it,” she said. “They probably just about on the bus, waiting on us about now.”

“There was a man too, and he was whipping her right in the middle of town while all the kids threw rocks at her and sang that horrible song,” Ethan said.

This did surprise Bertha.

“A man?” she asked. “What kind of man?”

“That’s the scary part Bertha,” Ethan said. “He was wearing old time clothes and all, but he looked just like Headmaster Chambers.”

Bertha tried to process this, and didn’t say anything at first.

“What do you think it means, Bertha?” Ethan asked her.

“It probably doesn’t mean anything Ethan,” she said. “Sometimes dreams are funny like that. There’s no way Mr. William could have had anything to do with Goody Cole. He’s old, but he’s not that old.”

“Well I found something out,” Ethan said. “I guess you could say I did a little snooping.”

“Now Ethan,” Bertha scolded. “You know you’re not supposed to be snooping.”

“Well, it wasn’t really snooping,” he said. “I think it’s sort of what they call public domain.”

“Public who?” Bertha asked. “It sounds like mischief to me.”

“No,” Ethan said. “It’s not mischief. You see, I remembered something Dad had told me once, about how Uncle William, I mean Mr. Chambers was related to some of the people who founded Piedmont.”

Bertha’s ears perked up and she looked at Ethan quizzically, muttering, “Hmm, I didn’t know about that.”

“I don’ think it’s something he brags about,” Ethan said. “I don’t think he hides it, but he just doesn’t advertise it either.”

“Well, Mr. Chambers is very modest,” Bertha said. “And very discreet. He doesn’t have sense of self-importance that most men in positions of power have.”

Ethan nodded.

“Well, anyway, I remembered Dad saying something about that,” he continued. “About how he thought one of Mr. Chambers’ relatives helped found Piedmont Academy. So, I stopped by the admin building. In the main hallway, they have all the Piedmont history stuff with plaques on the wall and stuff, in honor of the founders.”

Bertha listened intently.

“Well, one of the founders was named Chambers,” Ethan said. “There’s a picture of the guy there on the wall. He looks almost just like Mr. Chambers, our Mr. Chambers. They could be twins, except this Chambers died in 1702.”

Bertha nodded stoically.

“Well, Goody Cole died in 1688,” Ethan said. “I looked that up on the Internet. Do you see it now? They were both alive at the same time. He was the one whipping her in my dream.”

“I see,” Bertha said. “Maybe what you had wasn’t really a dream.”

“Well if it wasn’t a dream what was it?” Ethan asked.

“Maybe you was just seeing the past,” she said.

“Can people do that?” he asked.

“Some can, I imagine, just like some people can sort of see into the future,” Bertha said.

“I wonder what it means,” Ethan said.

“Yeah, me too,” agreed Bertha.

—– —— —– —–

The caravan was slow moving, partially because the bus couldn’t go much over 55 miles per hour, at least without sounding like it was going to fall apart, but also because bathroom stops were frequent. Under optimum driving conditions the trip from the Portsmouth area up to Jackman, Maine, the last real town before the road to the family cabin became all wilderness, normally took around four hours.

However, they’d been on the road now for almost four hours and were not even at the halfway point between Portsmouth and Jackman.

Although the adults encouraged all the kids to use the restroom during these stops, invariably, someone would have to go practically fifteen minutes after leaving the last stop. But kids were kids. And even though it was the drivers, Jason and William, who seemed the most irritated by the stops, the other adults seemed okay with it.

Even Jason didn’t completely mind, because it gave him tiny breaks he used to either smoke or snort cocaine. The same went for Trisha. At practically every stop, she closed herself in a restroom and practiced using her bullet.

Things were fairly quiet on the bus. The kids chattered, but it was, for the most part, kept below a dull roar. Having Bertha on board helped to abate any pandemonium. The kids truly liked her and listened to her fairly well.

In addition to Ethan and Roger, there were thirteen other children on board. Steve, Trisha’s son, and Pilar, Manuel’s daughter were there. Other students included Ashley Ming, 7; Anna Bloch, 13, from Austria; Furkhan and Ahmet Mirza, 7 and 10 and their sister, Elif, who was 13; Conor Malone, 8; Sofia Vasquez, 7, of Argentina; Takumi Mifune, 5 of Japan; Tobias Winchester, 15; and Sofia Osei, 6, of Africa.

They were driving in relative quiet when Conor announced, “Takumi needs to go to the bathroom, Mr. Jason.”

Jason nodded.

His uncle had told the kids to call his nephew Mr. Chambers also, but Jason declined, telling the kids that just Jason would do.

Jason picked up his Nextel phone and clicked the walkie-talkie function. His uncle replied almost immediately.

“Yes,” he said.

“We have another bathroom stop Uncle William,” Jason said.

“Yes, I figured as much,” his uncle replied. “We’ll take the next exit or rest area, whichever comes first.”