To Live Forever: An Afterlife Journey of Meriwether Lewis (18 page)

FORTY

Monday. October 10, 1977. South of Tupelo, Mississippi.

I di
dn’t know why I scr
atched at the pages of my journal. Was it a tick, held over from life? A constant reminder of my failure to publish my expedition journals? Delusional hope that I would get to keep a scrap of memory from failure to Nowhere failure?

I rubbed my eyes and looked around me. Started to write what I saw.

I couldn’t help myself.

Hector De Silva’s truck was a rusty red farm model, and a behemoth at that. Through the vents, I breathed in a mingling of engine oil and rubber. Emmaline slept with her head in my lap. I put my arm around her to keep her from bumping too much.

Hector’s battered leather suitcase shifted in the bed of the truck, next to our duffel bag of new supplies. It was kind of him to put together enough to see us the rest of the way.

“Sorry I cannot take you all the way to Nashville, my friend. I am due in Jackson this evening to make my flight to Spain.”

“I’m sorry as well. It’s hard to find people to trust, especially after what happened at the muster camp.”

“In that case, I have helped you. I made a phone call before we left. I have some friends in Tupelo. People I trust. You two will be safe with them.”

I bit my lip and watched the landscape scroll through a cracked window. De Silva went out of his way to help us: new supplies, a bed for the night, the ride to Tupelo. But, I couldn’t stop thinking his charity could be a delay. While he pretended to help us, Wilkinson could be anywhere.

De Silva’s thumb tapped the wheel. “Do you think she will be well enough to finish? To find her father?”

I rubbed my face and looked at blurred trees and cloudless sky. Stalling. “Whether she is or not, I think you know she won’t stand for additional delay. Her daddy matters to her more than anything. I have to help her. There’s nothing more to it. You’re sure we won’t be putting your friends out?”

“They are eager to help.” He braked at a rusty stop sign. I followed his gaze to a plume of smoke rising from the tree line ahead of us. Hector scratched at his beard and flicked his eyes back and forth from the road to the rear view mirror.

“What is it?”

“A car seems to be following us. Coincidence perhaps, but it has been on our tail through three consecutive turns.”

“Can you lose it?”

“
Si.
Please brace yourselves.”

Em’s head popped up when Hector cut the wheel a hard right and bumped through a field. “What’s going on?” Her voice was drunk with sleep.

I turned around and saw the car. It slowed down but kept to the roadway.

Hector pushed a button on his visor, and the woods in front of us parted. We shot through the gate, and it locked shut before the car could follow. Limbs scraped along the sides of the truck, and my head brushed against the ceiling. Emmaline dug into me and held on, white-knuckled.

Hector pulled to a stop at smooth tarmac, devoid of traffic. He hung a left and we puttered away from the setting sun. “Still my property. Unless they have more than one vehicle, they will have difficulty finding us.”

I leaned my head against the cool window glass. “Thanks, Hector. That was the break we needed.”

“I wish I only had good news, my friend.”

I shot forward. “What do you mean?”

“You know they ruled the death of the girl’s mother a homicide. They released a description of the prime suspect, along with a pencil sketch.” He reached under the seat and flung a page from the Tupelo newspaper toward me. I studied a dog-eared article in the upper-right hand corner. My own eyes stared back at me. First time I’d greeted my face in a while, but I was captured down to the fine lines around my eyes. I tossed the paper on the nearby seat.

“I only have to get Em to her father. To Nashville. Then, I’ll disappear. They can’t follow me where I’m going.”

“Someone will surely finger you as a murderer from this drawing, my friend. Not to mention the shooting at the re-enactor camp.”

Emmaline’s head swiveled from Hector to me. “But Merry didn’t kill my mother, and he didn’t shoot anybody. This paper is a lie.”

“Em, calm down. We know it’s a lie, but that doesn’t mean they can’t print it.” I turned to Hector. “Look. I’m not exactly worried about my reputation at this point. Getting Emmaline to Nashville is my job, and I am the best person to take her there. I know how to evade these guys. Our biggest problem will be transportation. I was reticent to hitch before, but it’s out of the question now.”

De Silva rubbed his hairy chin, and his eyes followed a cardinal as it flew across the road. “My friends in Tupelo will figure something out. I promise you, they will not leave you stranded.”

A vein twinged above my left eye. An impending headache. Did they always hit when I was running out of time? I blinked it away and tried to lean back but rest was impossible. Every time a car passed going the opposite direction, I imagined it turning around. Following us. Wilkinson taking Em away from me.

His portly face crowded the edges of my mind. If Em reminded Wilkinson of his dead wife, he would never stop until he found her, particularly since he blamed me for her demise. If I lost Emmaline to him, I was sure my failure would be my lake of fire. It would torture me throughout eternity.

Would I feel as empty when Em rejoined her father at the end? Or, would success be the same as failure?

Success was an unknown. I thumbed through the back of my journal. Blank pages with scattered remnants. Words that no longer made sense. Would success wipe my journal clean again? Give me a new identity? A new purpose? Or, would I fade into the soul of someone else?

I stuck the nib of my pen into a blank page and ground it into the paper. Her name.
Emmaline.
Whatever waited for me on the other side of success, it couldn’t compare to my days with Emmaline Cagney.

Hector’s foot pounded the brake, and he steered the truck onto a washboard dirt road. His olive hands shuddered on the wheel.

“Are we almost there?” Emmaline laughed at the rhythm the road made in her voice, and she kept saying it. “Are we almost there are we almost there are we almost there?”

Hector touched her cheek. “Not long now, beautiful girl, before I leave you. My heart, it is sad.”

“But once we find Daddy, we can all come back and visit. I know he’ll want to thank you for helping me.”

Hector’s dark eyes met mine over her curly head. In that moment, a distant ghost whispered to me. From somewhere beyond the Nowhere I was.

I studied a Spanish conquistador’s epic journey in preparation for my own trip to the Pacific. His exploration of what became the Southeastern United States—including the land around the Trace—was legendary to men like me. His was an example of what not to do: abuse the natives; introduce diseases; force the place to acclimate to foreign demands. His were brutal footprints that shredded the veil of mystery.

In some ways, I was just as bad as he was. My journey of discovery robbed people of their lands. Their homes. Their identities. A few of them cursed me to my face.

Maybe that was why I was still a Nowhere Man.

FORTY-ONE

On the bumpy dirt road, the tires of Mister De Silva’s truck
sounded like the ol
d machine Aunt Bertie sometimes used to wash out her underwear. Behind us, a long trail of dust tornadoed up from the road. We shot around a curve and hit some potholes. On one, I bounced almost all the way to the ceiling. When I landed, Merry pulled me to him and held me in his lap. The world spun a little outside the window.

After what felt like forever, Mister De Silva stopped the truck in front of a falling-down house. The boards of the front porch looked like crooked teeth. In every direction, I saw nothing but thick trees.

Mister De Silva turned off the engine and waved his arm toward the place. “My friends’ hunting cabin. They should be here soon. Most secluded place we could think of. I’ll wait with you.”

Merry stared at the peeling paint. “Why can’t we stay here? If it’s out of the way, it might be safer.”

“You can decide when they get here. Trust them. They will know the best way to keep you safe. Perhaps, you can go to their diner in town for a hot meal, yes? It is closed. Completely secure.” He turned to me and winked. “Would you like that, Emmaline? To sit at the counter and eat an ice cream sundae with dark chocolate sauce and a cherry on top?”

“Could I have more than one cherry? I really like them. I like how they turn my tongue all red.” I tugged at Merry’s sleeve. “Can we go into town, Merry? I’ve made us waste enough time.”

He ignored me, and when he did that, it usually meant no. Merry wasn’t very good at saying no to me, but grown-ups didn’t always have to say no to mean no. Instead, he climbed out of the cab and stretched, looking at the house. “How old is this thing?”

Mister De Silva pulled me along the seat and carried me around the front of the truck. I dangled my legs and hugged him.

“Two hundred years or thereabouts, but the Hinkle twins have carried on the family tradition of maintaining it.”

“You call that maintenance?”

“A rare stand along the Trace. The old road runs just there.” He pointed through the trees. A ditch plowed through the wet ground.

I put my mouth close to Mister De Silva’s ear, because talking made me tired. “What’s a stand?”

“An old hotel of sorts. People who traveled the Trace used to stay in them.”

Merry’s forehead was creased when he turned to face us, and his smile wasn’t real like usual. “If we end up having to spend a night here, this will be perfect. Thanks for all you’ve done for us.”

Mister De Silva smiled and walked around to his side of the truck. When he came back, he held a box in his hands. He offered it to me. “A parting gift for you.”

I ripped through the brown paper and found a Halloween costume box with a clear plastic window on top. The white fabric glowed through the film. “The Wonder Twins?” I tore the top off the box and waved the outfit all around me. “Oh, Mister De Silva. How did you know I love the Wonder Twins?”

He looked at Merry. “Someone told me. I picked it up for you last night, along with your other supplies. I hope it fits.”

I started pulling the legs on over my jeans. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll wear it anyway.”

“Em, you can go inside and change if you want.”

“You mean, I can wear it right now? As my clothes and everything?”

“Sure, if that will make you happy. Let me check out the house before we take our stuff inside. Make sure everything’s okay in there.”

Merry clomped up the steps and opened the squeaky door. When he went inside, the door slapped shut.

I waited with Mister De Silva and closed my eyes to imagine what it would be like inside. Would there even be a bed? I was still sleepy. Could I warm up some canned ravioli on a stove and eat it from a real plate? Would it have a bathtub and a shower? After Mister De Silva’s house, it was hard to imagine not being clean and warm and cozy comfortable.

Merry’s head appeared behind the screen. It made him look like a ghost. “Come on in. I’ll bring our stuff. Just leave it.”

I jumped up the steps and ran into the tiny house, and Mister De Silva followed me into the big room with a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Two beds were shoved in the back corner, covered with faded quilts, the sewn flowers curling up like soft petals. Just like the quilts Daddy used to wrap me in when he rocked me to sleep. Too bad the whole place smelled like a stinky shoe. It made me sneeze.

Merry rubbed his face and cleared his throat. “With any luck, it should be tolerable in an hour or so. I’ve opened most of the windows to air out the place for us, Em. We’ll wait outside while you change.”

Their voices hummed through the windows while I peeled out of my shirt and pants. The white fabric itched, but the Wonder Twin suit fit just like it was made for me.

Because it was.

I walked outside and twisted my hips in front of them.

“It’s perfect. See? I love it so much. Thank you thank you thank you.” I hugged Mister De Silva as hard as I could and stuck my nose in his hair. I wanted to remember what he smelled like. A mix of wild animal and shaving lotion. After everything I’d been through, it was harder to let people go. It was a rip in the cloth of my life, and the missing people left holes. I never understood that before I met Merry.

I never understood a lot of things.

Mister De Silva’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, you are welcome. Now, let me help Merry move your things inside. Perhaps I can convince you to rest before my friends arrive.”

Merry chuckled. “I don’t think ‘rest’ and ‘Wonder Twins’ go together very well.”

While Merry and Mister De Silva carried our bags into the house, I stood on one bed and looked out the windows. We only had two light duffel bags, one for me and one for Merry. They made a little pile in the middle of the floor. I unzipped mine and started spreading things around the room.

“Em. Don’t get all that stuff out.” Merry stood watching me from the doorway, leaning on the opening.

“But—”

I stopped arguing before I started, because the wind carried another noise. An engine. It reminded me of Daddy’s upright bass, and it chugged closer. I stumbled to the open door and slid under Merry’s arm to watch the road.

An old black convertible with a round front and long fishy fins in back putted into the clearing. I blinked when two men came out of the drivers’ side. They walked side by side, like they were joined at the hip. Their faces were the same, and they wore matching white clothes and white paper hats. We followed Mister De Silva outside to meet them.

It was only when they stopped in front of us that I realized the truth: they
were
joined at the hip. I read about Siamese twins in school, but I never thought I’d see any. I blurted, “You’re stuck together?” Before I could stop myself.

“Em—” Merry had his
stop-talking-right-now
voice on. I was getting better at noticing it. Mister De Silva just laughed.

“It’s okay. We been getting that question since we can remember.” The twin closest to me did the talking.

“So, where are you stuck together?” I wondered.

I could tell he wasn’t mad because he smiled at me. “Without getting all birds-and-bees-ish, we share a liver. These days, it’s pretty common to separate twins like us, but in our case, our parents would’ve had to pick which one of us got to live. Which one’d get the liver.”

Could I decide something like that? Who lived and who died? I spoke my truth. “I wouldn’t want to have to pick.”

“Well, they had some time to get to know us both by then, and thankfully, they liked us both, so it wasn’t a hard decision. My brother don’t talk, so he needs me around to take care of him. Be the loquacious one. Know what I mean?”

“No. I don’t know what lo-qua, lo-lo, whatever you said means.” When I looked over at Merry, he had a real smile on his face, not that worried look he’d worn for the past couple of days.

“Well. I suspect you’re loquacious like me.”

“I am not loquacious. I’m not stuck to anybody. Clearly.” I rolled my eyes. Grown-ups could be so dumb sometimes.

“Loquacious means I talk a lot.”

“Oh.”

“That’s definitely you, Em.” Merry laughed.

“Oh, Merry. You’re happy again. Look, he’s happy again. I always love it when you’re happy, Merry.”

“Glad to give you a bit of what you love, Em.”

I fluttered around the porch to show off my Wonder Twin suit. It was cool that we were going off with real twins, and I was dressed up like a Wonder Twin. “I’m Emmaline, and you know Mister De Silva, and he’s Merry, and we’ve been hiking for days and days and days, and Mister De Silva saved us from bad people, and what are your names?”

Their hands sort of spun in front of me, probably because of all my twirling around, or maybe it was a hangover from my sick time. I heard Aunt Bertie say hangover once after she spent a lot of time in bed during the day, so I decided that’s what it meant.

I blinked to steady myself and watched the twin on the right. “We’re the Hinkle twins. And this is our hunting shack. That’s Crit. And, I’m Pudge. We’re going to take care of you.”

“We really appreciate your help.” Merry shook Pudge’s outstretched hand and then turned to Hector, squinting at the sun. “Well, Hector, if you’re going to make it to Jackson tonight, you should probably get going.”

Mister De Silva clasped Merry’s hand. “I only wish I could see you to the end.” Mister De Silva turned to me and swung me into his arms. His triangle beard was rough against my cheek when he gave me a kiss. “I will miss you, my friend. If I’m ever in Nashville, I will look for you.” I slid down his leg to stand beside Merry. When I squinted through the sunlight, it made a halo around Mister De Silva’s black hair.

“And Merry. You have to promise to look for Merry, too.”

“Ah, Merry and I. We are kindred souls. Friends always know where to find one another, yes?”

Merry hugged Mister De Silva to him with one arm. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Hector.”

Mister De Silva gave him a long look and turned, his boots kicking up dirt on the way to his truck. He started the engine and waved before backing along the road. We stood outside and waited until we couldn’t hear the truck anymore. Side-by-side with the twins and our pile of supplies.

Pudge turned to us. “Want to try the best food you’ll ever have in your life?”

Merry looked at me. “Are you sure it’ll be safe?”

But I wasn’t paying attention to Merry’s worries. My mouth started watering just
thinking
about an ice cream sundae with extra cherries.

“Yes, please!” I nodded.

Mister Pudge stepped the twins toward the car. “I secured the place myself before we came out here. You’ll be fine.”

“Only if you’re sure.” Merry’s fingers laced with mine, while Mister Pudge maneuvered them into the car.

“Grab your bags. It’ll be dark by the time we get into town. Let’s get a move on.”