Chapter 14

The next morning, Charlie took Sam and Jenna to breakfast in Shady Cove, then stayed in town alone when they went back to camp. He actually found a convenience store where he could buy some more minutes for his phone. He walked the streets, picked up some brochures at the Visitor's Center. Sat in a small park, and made a phone call. When the local branch of his bank opened, Charlie spent several hours with the manager, grateful for his photographic memory of numbers.

Afterwards, he found another store. He bought a towel, a disposable shaver. Maybe tomorrow he could fill Sam & Jenna's car up with gas and they could all go into the Big City, Medford. He had seen a mall there, a Wal-Mart. Places with underwear.

He looked at his watch. 3 p.m. There was a pay phone in front of the store, and he walked over to it, called Larry — collect. His friend was so delighted to hear from him, and so forgiving, that he felt even guiltier about the way he left. After their conversation he walked back to the campground, which was only a few miles from the town proper. He had learned that they were called "towns" here. Small Town America. Somehow, Charlie had ended up in the middle of it.

He got back to the campground in time to shower, change into the clothes Jenna had washed for him. He started the fire — they'd have to buy more wood tomorrow, too; where were Sam & Jenna getting theirs? — and pulled out the phone. He looked at his watch again. Almost 6. No time like the present.

Alan was sitting on top of the phone. Probably had been for five days, now. "Hello?"

"I'm sorry."

"Charlie? CHARLIE! My G-d, Charlie, is that you?"

"I shouldn't have left like that, I should have had more respect for you. I'm sorry."

"Are you all right, son?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm good. Are you okay?"

Alan was barely holding back tears, Charlie could hear it in his voice. "Charlie, Charlie, I'm fine, son. Now that I hear you."

"I really am sorry, Dad. It was selfish."

"I love you, Charlie. When are you coming home? You're in San Diego? I just got your note in the afternoon mail!" His father was rattling, now.

"No, Dad, I had somebody mail that for me. To throw Don off. I'm actually in Oregon."

"Oregon?"

Charlie smiled. "No, Dad, not Ore-e-Gone. Orygun."

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm just over the border, near a small town, Shady Cove."

"Do you need me to send you some money? Don said you reported your ATM card stolen."

"Good thing I had that truck driver take my letter to San Diego, huh?"

"Truck driver? Charlie, are you sure you're all right?"

Charlie laughed. "Yes, Dad, I'm really fine. Listen, I don't need any money. There's a branch of my bank here, we got everything straightened out today. I'm good."

"Then you'll be home soon?"

The smile faded. "Listen, Dad, I'm going to stay here a while."

"Charlie?"

"I'll be home in time for fall semester. I called Cal Sci today and withdrew my request for a sabbatical. I'll keep in touch. I wanted to give you my new cell number, you know, in case there's an emergency."

Alan was silent for a moment, finally said, "Donnie's here. Just got here. He came over to see the note. Do you…"

"Dad, I don't want to talk to him," Charlie interrupted. "Not right now. Please."

"What? Charlie, he's your brother."

Charlie had a momentary stab of panic. "He's all right, isn't he? Nothing happened, at work or anything?"

"No, Charlie, nothing happened. Except you disappeared."

Charlie closed his eyes. "I'm just not ready, yet. Not ready to come home. Not ready to talk to Don. Besides," he added lamely, "this is one of those prepaid things. I'm running out of minutes."

"Give me the number, then. Are you sure you don't need some money? Are you eating all right?"

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Charlie waited until he saw the glow of Sam and Jenna's campfire, walked to the edge of their site. "Hey," he said.

"Come on in, kid!" greeted Sam. "Caught some today! Jenna's just getting ready to serve 'em up!"

Charlie entered the circle of light, sat down cross-legged on the ground. He accepted the plate Jenna offered with a tentative smile. "Guys?" he said. "Guys, I've got something to tell you."

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"She loves you best," sniffed his little brother from his chair in the corner of the living room. "She always believes you." Don smiled. It wasn't exactly true. Their mother didn't really love him more, he just had more practice at convincing her of things — like who broke her favorite vase. He sure wasn't going to risk being grounded himself. He had a sandlot game tomorrow with the guys. This was too good to pass up though. "I know," he said to

Charlie. "She was my mother first, you know." Charlie started to cry in earnest then, and their mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "Donnie! What have you done to your brother now?" The 11-year-old scowled. "Nuthin', I didn't do nuthin' to him." Their mother frowned, put her hands on her hips. "Anything. I didn't do 'anything'. Leave him alone, now. Just go outside and play for a while." She looked at her youngest, whose shoulders were heaving. "Can't you see that you've hurt him?"

Don awoke in a cold sweat. He couldn't believe that Charlie had refused to talk to him. He was so relieved to know where he was, that he was safe; so happy that their father could relax a little now, although he wouldn't be happy until he had Charlie in his arms, again. But then he had heard his father say that he was there, he had figured out that Charlie was saying that he didn't want to talk to him…maybe he was the one who wasn't safe, now. Maybe he was the one who was lost.