A cross country race in Caribou was scheduled on a Saturday in early September. Isaiah had been running with Kieran all summer. He still was unable to beat Kieran, but his stamina and breathing had improved considerably, to the point where he could run all the way into Canada and back on the old dirt road. Since he had learned that such races were seldom longer than three or four miles, he believed he could make a strong showing.
The school coach was happy to have Isaiah compete in Caribou but said he couldn’t provide transportation that year because he had too few kids in track to make the trip.
When Isaiah told Walter he had been training but couldn’t go, Walter said, “I’ll take ya.”
“Really?”
“Yup. What time’s the race?”
Isaiah told him and they made plans to leave the cabin in plenty of time. That Saturday morning, early, they set out for Caribou, arriving at the starting point in time for Isaiah to get his bearings, meet the other runners, and line up at the starting line.
In the beginning of the race, Isaiah ran easily, letting two or three runners get ahead of him but, he hoped, not too far ahead. He maintained a steady pace behind the leaders and then, just as he was about to try to gain on them, he came around a turn and there in front of him was the finish line. He put on a burst of speed and caught two of the leaders but crossed the finish line in second place. He was disappointed, because he was quite sure he could have beaten the winner had he known where the finish line was.
That afternoon he talked about the problem with Kieran as they strolled through the woods. Isaiah didn’t know how to figure out where the finish line was in such a race, but Kieran suggest that, at the next race, Isaiah arrive early enough to find the finish line and trace the course back about half a mile, where he could pick out a landmark.
At supper, Isaiah once again enthusiastically dug into a steak with Walter. “Why are we having steak when I didn’t win?” he asked.
“I guess because ya ran a good race and ya tried really hard. I could see ya tryin’ to catch those other runners at the end.”
Two weeks later, there was another race, this one in Presque Isle, a town twice as far away as Caribou.
That Saturday, Isaiah and his father rose before sunrise, breakfasted, and headed towards Presque Isle. They drove silently as the sun began to throw golden rays through the trees. When they arrived and found out where the race was to begin, they went to the starting line and asked where it was to end. Following the directions they received, they found the finish line. Isaiah got out of the truck and jogged off down the route in the cool, invigorating morning air until he figured he had gone about half a mile. There he looked around for a land mark, finding a huge, gray, glacial boulder around which the trail ran. He turned and trotted back, finding a mossy, rotten tree which had fallen across the trail and been cut so the trail ran between the two pieces of trunk. He noted this in case he missed the boulder. Back at the finish line, he climbed into the truck, nodded to Walter, and they returned to the starting line.
He still had a little time to rest from his jog before lining up for the race. By then the sun had begun warming the air and he knew it would be a good day for running. Once again, he let two or three runners get in front of him as he ran easily, pacing himself. He could hear other runners behind him and hoped that they weren’t also planning to sprint at the end. When he came to his landmark boulder, he picked up speed and began gaining on the leaders. Passing the fallen tree, he caught the leaders and pulled ahead. Thinking he had the race won, he eased up a bit, but with about a hundred yards to go, another runner pulled up beside him and then sprinted ahead. Dismayed, Isaiah took the challenge, putting on a burst of speed and catching his challenger with about ten yards to go. He pulled ahead and won the race by a stride.
The runner who had challenged him and who had won the previous race came over and shook his hand, congratulating him. They chatted for a few minutes as they caught their breaths. Isaiah asked the other runner where he lived, and the runner told him of a small town farther south, where he, too, was the only cross country runner.
There were to be no more cross country races in northern Maine until the spring, but the two of them agreed to meet at the first one and challenge each other again.
When Isaiah returned to the truck, he found Walter talking with another man, whom Walter introduced as the Athletic Director at the University of Maine.
The man’s large, strong hand gripped Isaiah’s as the man said, “I’d surely like to have you on our track team when you go to college. We have a good team and I think you’d fit right in.”
“Thank you,” Isaiah said. “I’ve got a couple of years of high school left and I’m not sure I’ll go to college, but if I decide to I’ll certainly get in touch with you.”
“The man nodded. “Unfortunately,” he said, “we don’t have much in the way of scholarships for track students. Have you ever thought of being a wide receiver in football?”
“Yes, but I’m terrible with balls. I don’t seem to be able to either throw or catch them, and I don’t think I’d be much of an asset to your team.”
“Well, you’ve got some time. Think about it, and then get in touch with me at the beginning of your senior year.”
“Yes, sir.” They shook hands and the coach departed.
When they were in the truck, Walter asked, “Why the heck did ya say you didn’t think ya’d go to college? Of course y’ll go to college.”
Without telling his father about his plans for being with Kieran, Isaiah said, “College is expensive, and I don’t have any money.”
“That’s where yer wrong,” said the man.
“Really?”
“Yup. After yer mother’s house was sold, we put all the money in a trust account for ya. It becomes yers when ya turn twenty-one, but we can get money out of it fer education before that.”
Isaiah was floored. He hadn’t thought of that house since the day he left it. He had never wondered what had become of it or all the things in it. While he still thought he didn’t want to go to college, he decided not to mention that to Walter for another year or two.
On the way home, Walter stopped at the market and bought two good-sized steaks along with potatoes and mushrooms.
“Why can’t we get mushrooms in the woods?” Isaiah asked.
“Well, we could,” Walter replied, “but some are poisonous and I never wanna take the chance.”
In the afternoon, Isaiah went to the swimming hole, where he met Kieran. It was a warm day so they stripped and went in the water for a few minutes. As they lay on their rock, sunning and chatting, they knew that the days when they could be together were limited by Isaiah’s schooling and by his need to help cut and transport wood in the winter. Before leaving, they enjoyed fulfilling each other’s needs.
Dinner was a delicious, satisfying meal. Walter, who had never really mentioned it before, expressed interest in the boy’s running, and Isaiah tried to explain the exhilarating freedom he felt as he raced through the forest.
Monday evening, after eating supper and doing the dishes, Isaiah went outside in the hopes that Kieran would be at the edge of the woods. He was. They hugged briefly and then Kieran said, “D’ ya hear that?”
Isaiah listened quietly and heard a soft, “Hoo…hoo…hoo,” the last two sounds a little shorter than the first, filtering through the woods.
He nodded and said, “An owl.” Sometimes he had heard owls when he lay in bed before sleep came.
Kieran gestured for him to follow him into the woods. A nearly full moon shone through the trees so they didn’t need the flashlight, although Isaiah had brought it along. He had learned to walk almost as stealthily in the woods as his friend, but not quite. Occasionally, Kieran stopped to listen for the owl before moving on. Finally, they arrived at the base of a tree where the owl’s hoot seemed to originate.
Softly, Kieran whispered, “See if ya can catch him with yer light.”
Isaiah held his palm over the light, turning it on with his other hand. He pointed it up in the direction of the sound and then removed his palm from the light, sending a beam through the darkness and picking out a large, brown and white owl with feathers on its head which looked like two horns. The owl blinked in the light and silently flew away.
Isaiah turned off the light and Kieran slapped him on the back saying he had heard the owl before but had never actually seen it. He asked Isaiah what kind of an owl it was.
“I’m not sure, but it’s probably a great horned owl. I think they’re pretty common and he certainly seemed to have two horns.”
“Did ya see its wings? How wide d’ ya think they stretched?”
“Well over a yard,” Isaiah said. “It was gigantic. I’ll look it up when I get back to the cabin.”
After they said goodnight at the edge of the woods, Isaiah went into the cabin and into his bedroom, where he took out the bird book to look up the owl he had seen. Reading the description of the great horned owl he was certain that was what they had seen. He read that their wingspans could be over four feet. While he didn’t keep a formal list of the birds he had seen, he had a mental one and added the owl to it.
Isaiah enjoyed the bus rides with Phillip. He liked Phillip a lot. They talked about school and homework, and about their homes. Isaiah never mentioned Kieran. One morning, when they compared their homework, Isaiah caught Phillip glancing sideways at him a few times. He became aware that Phillip also gazed at him in the lunch room. One time he stared back and laughed.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
Phillip blushed and muttered, “Nothing.” After that he didn’t stare anymore.
Isaiah and Kieran met occasionally during the week in the dark, but Kieran had to spend most of his time catching food for himself. The stream froze over so he was limited to the small animals he could catch in his snares. In the summer he had been able to throw a spear and actually kill a duck or two, but the ducks were way out at the lake and they had become wary, so he gave that up for the winter.
Soon the snow began to fall. The first snowfall was a very gentle one which left only couple of inches. Isaiah walked in it easily, listening to the crunch of it under his boots.
Two days later, there was a significant snowfall. Walter again plowed their little road and drove Isaiah to the bus stop. When Isaiah returned home that afternoon, he saw the sled waiting and knew his weekend time was limited.
Sure enough, on the weekends, Walter and Isaiah trudged into the woods pulling the sled. Until they began cutting a tree, the only sounds Isaiah heard were the crunch of the snow under their snowshoes and the swish of the sled’s runners. They spent long hours cutting down trees, chopping off the limbs, cutting them up, and hauling the logs back to the cabin. They lost some time when it snowed hard on several weekends so they couldn’t go out.
When Christmas came. Although Isaiah and Walter didn’t celebrate it, because he had vacation, Isaiah did get to see Kieran a few time. However that was only when he went to Kieran because his friend could not really take time from his hunting.
In February, there was another vacation, and by the end of vacation, Isaiah and his father had collected enough wood for the coming year, so Isaiah set off on Sunday morning to find Kieran.
It was a piercingly cold day, the kind where his nose-hairs froze and his eyes watered. He was bending into the sharp, strong wind when he came to one of Kieran’s snares. The trap had a squirrel in it, so Isaiah broke the squirrel’s neck as Kieran had shown him and took the dead animal with him. Wondering why his friend had not retrieved the squirrel, he decided to check some of the other snares on his way to Kieran’s winter shelter. He found animals in several of them, including a raccoon which had already died.
Curious now, Isaiah forged on through the wind and snow until he neared the cave. As he approached, he called Kieran’s name but heard no sound save the thump of snow falling from a branch. He looked into the cave and saw his friend lying curled up, shivering and breathing hard. He went sideways through the narrow opening into the cave and knelt beside Kieren, who didn’t even turn his head. His fire had gone out and the ashes weren’t even warm. It was ice-cold in the cave. Isaiah felt of Kieran’s forehead and realized he was burning with fever. He shook the inert boy but could get no reaction out of him.
He knew he had to go for help, so he told Isaiah he’d be back soon, hoping that his friend could hear him. Then he hurried as fast as he could on snowshoes back to the cabin.
When he arrived he threw open the cabin door and, without thinking, cried, “Kieran’s sick!”
Walter looked up from his book, closed it slowly, and asked, “Who’s Kieran?”
Realizing he’d made a mistake, Isaiah nevertheless knew he had to tell the truth. “He’s a friend of mine who lives in the woods.”
“Is he the boy you’ve been meetin’ in the woods ever since ya moved here?”
Shocked that Walter seemed to know about their meetings, he said, “Yes, and he’s really, really sick.”
“How sick?”
“He’s shivering, he’s got a high fever, he’s having trouble breathing, and I don’t think he’s conscious.”
As Walter put his parka on, he told Isaiah to bring the sled around to the front.
When Isaiah brought the sled, he found Walter outside in his snowshoes carrying several blankets. Walter told him to lead the way, and Isaiah led as rapidly as he could, fearing they wouldn’t be in time. They arrived at the cave but Walter couldn’t squeeze through the opening. Isaiah went in and found Kieran still apparently unconscious. Desperately tugging and dragging his friend to the opening, Isaiah managed to squeeze the boy’s legs through to where Walter could grab them and pull him the rest of the way out. Together they wrapped Kieran in all the blankets they had brought and loaded him onto the sled.
Finally arriving at the cabin, Walter and Isaiah managed to get Kieran into the cab of the truck.
Walter drove as fast as he dared out of the woods and onto the paved road. He sped towards Allagash, where he knew there was a doctor. At the doctor’s office, he climbed out of the truck, leaving it running, and telling Isaiah to stay there while he ran into the office.
Inside, Walter saw Myrna, the receptionist, sitting behind a window. As quickly as he could, he told Myrna about Kieran’s condition. Immediately Myrna called the doctor from the examining rooms. The doctor emerged almost at once, listened to Walter, and told Myrna to call the ambulance. Outside, the doctor checked Kieran’s heart and lungs, temperature and blood pressure as well as she could, nodding but saying Kieran needed to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
In a few moments, the ambulance pulled up and two EMTs jumped out. They loaded Kieran onto a stretcher and then into the ambulance. Inside, the first thing they did was attach an oxygen mask to his face. Then, while one of the EMTs remained in the ambulance with Kieran, the other climbed into the driver’s seat and drove toward Fort Kent with lights flashing and siren screaming.
Walter climbed back into the truck. Even before he had closed his door, he took off for Fort Kent, driving as closely as he dared behind the ambulance.
When they arrived at the Medical Center, Walter parked the truck and the two of them raced into the emergency room, where they were told they had to wait in the waiting room.
Reluctantly, they went into the waiting room and sat. Tears were pouring from Isaiah’s eyes. It was then that he realized just how much he loved Kieran, not just for the sex but as a person. He tried to stop the tears, but they just kept flowing as he sobbed uncontrollably.
Walter put an arm around Isaiah’s shoulder, something he had never done before. In fact, when Isaiah thought about it later, he realized that his father had never touched him in all the time he’d lived in the cabin.
Slowly the sobbing subsided and the tears slackened.
Walter asked, “So who is this boy?”
“His name’s Kieran and he lives in the woods.”
“What’s his last name?”
“I’ve no idea,” Isaiah said in surprise. “I guess I never asked him.”
“How long’s he been in the woods?”
“I think it’s been six about years now.”
“Where are his parents?”
“He told me they dropped him off at school one day and he never saw them again.”
“I believe I may have heard of him. He was reported missin’, as well as his parents, about six years ago last spring. There’ve been rumors that he’s sometimes taken clothes from clothes lines in Allagash but nobody’s ever seen him and he hasn’t done anythin’ really destructive. At the same time, nobody’d believe that he could have been livin’ in the woods for so long.
“Now, I dunno how long we’ll have before someone comes out and asks questions. First of all, let me do all the talkin’ unless I ask ya something. Okay?”
Isaiah nodded.
“I’m gonna tell the people here that he’s my son and yer brother. I’ll tell ‘em I adopted him a long time ago. They may question that, but they’ll probably accept it fer the minute, at least ‘til they get around t’ askin’ questions about school and that sort of thing.”
“Why does he have to be adopted?”
“ ‘Cause he doesn’t look like either one of us, and he’s pretty clearly mixed-race, which we aren’t.”
Isaiah nodded and they waited. The waiting room was a typical institutional room, with uncomfortable, molded, plastic, orange chairs, bland, light-green painted walls, a few ancient magazines on a table, and, on the same table, a small TV which only ran a continuous loop about health care.
The wait was long and eventually Walter gave Isaiah some coins to use for the vending machine in the hall. Isaiah returned with potato chips and a candy bar. He offered some to Walter, who refused them.
Finally a nurse came in and said they had to register Kieran. She led them to a small office painted the same green with two of the same plastic chairs. She sat behind a scarred wooden desk, and Walter and Isaiah took the chairs on the other side. She asked them a number of questions, and Isaiah was amazed at how easily his father lied about Kieran while the nurse looked rather dubious. When she asked about insurance, Walter said he didn’t have any.
“Unfortunately,” the nurse said, “that’s true of a majority of the people who come in here.” She continued with questions about Kieran’s health record, and Walter made up answers. Since he had no telephone and his mail came to a mailbox in Allagash, Walter told her he would check the mailbox every day for messages from the Medical Center.
When the paperwork was done, they went back into the waiting room and waited some more.
About an hour later, a doctor came into the waiting room and invited them into another office, where they all sat. “The boy you brought in is very, very sick,” he started. “When he came in he was unconscious, his temperature was 105.5, he was dehydrated, and his breathing was labored. X-rays showed what we suspected, that he had a bad case of pneumonia in both lungs. We’ve been pumping fluids and antibiotics into him and wrapping him in iced towels to bring down the temperature. The good news is that he’s still alive; the bad news is that he’s still unconscious. We’re putting him in the Intensive Care Unit, where he’ll be monitored around the clock. You,” he said looking at Walter, “can go in for five minutes every half hour. You,” he said looking at Isaiah, “cannot go in because you need to be at least eighteen to enter.”
Isaiah asked, “Is there at least a window I can look through to see him?”
The doctor said there was and then told them how to find the ICU, saying he would be checking on Kieran until the night shift came on.
When they got to the ICU waiting room, Kieran had not yet arrived, so they sat on more uncomfortable plastic chairs in the little green waiting room that was just for the unit. As it happened, Kieran would be the only one in the ICU, at least at the beginning. When Kieran was wheeled to the door of the ICU, Isaiah jumped up, went over to him, and said, “I’m here, Kieran, and I’m not leaving. You just get well.” By then he was crying again.
They waited until the doctor entered the ICU and checked Kieran over. When he came out he said, “There’s been no change and there won’t be for a while. You should probably go home and come back tomorrow.”
Walter looked at Isaiah, who shook his head, saying, “I’m not leaving.”
The doctor nodded and told them that The Medical Center had a small cafeteria, mostly for the employees, but Walter and Isaiah could also get food there.
“Come on,” said Walter. “Let’s get some food into us.”
“I’m not hungry,” answered to boy. “Can’t I just sit here and watch?”
“No, ya need t’ get some nourishment. It won’t help anybody if ya get sick too. Remember, you’ve been exposed to whatever Kieran has. Ya need to take care of yerself.”
So Isaiah and his father went to the cafeteria and ate a silent meal.
When they returned, Walter went into the ICU for five minutes to see how Kieran was doing. “No change,” he said when he came out. “But maybe that’s good. At least he doesn’t seem t’ be any worse.”
Isaiah nodded and just sat, looking through the window at his friend. An hour or so later, Walter asked, “Can ya answer a few questions fer me?”
Reluctantly, Isaiah nodded.
“Tell me what you and Kieran ‘ve been doin’ in the woods since ya arrived.”
Isaiah began by telling him about the swimming hole and the skinny dipping. Then he went on to describe Kieran’s shelters, the eagle they had seen, the owl, tickling fish, and finally the running they’d done.
“Any sex?”
Isaiah knew he was blushing furiously. He looked down at the floor and said, “Yes
sir.”
“It’s okay,” Walter said gently. “Shut away in the woods like you’ve been at yer age, I’d be surprised if ya hadn’t tried sex. I believe that’s perfectly natural. And don’t worry. I won’t ask y’ specifically what you’ve been doin’.”
“Thank you.”
“D’ya think ya love this boy?”
Isaiah gave a huge sigh. “Yes,” he said, “I think I do, but we’ve never talked about love.”
“D’ya think yer gay?”
“Yeah, I think I am. I’ve been surrounded by plenty of girls at school and some of them are really good looking I guess, but they just don’t interest me like some of the boys do.” Isaiah paused for a few moments. “Do we have to talk about this anymore now?”
“No. And I thank ya for your honesty.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
Walter nodded.
“Can I call you Dad?”
“Why?”
“Because you are my dad, and lately you’ve really been acting like it. I guess I need you as a dad and not someone who just feeds me and gives me a place to sleep. Does that make any sense?”
Walter said, “Com’ere.” Isaiah went to him and then suddenly collapsed in the man’s arms, sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t be such a baby. But I do love Kieran, Dad, and I’m really scared he’s not gonna make it.”
His father held him close, gently rubbing his back until the sobs subsided. Then he said, “That’s okay…Son,” and again Isaiah burst into tears.
Later, a hospital worker brought two cots into the waiting room. He said that since there was nobody else there, they might as well try to be comfortable.
Walter thanked him. Father and son removed their shoes and lay on the cots. The cots were uncomfortable and Isaiah was certain that he wouldn’t sleep, but he must have, for the next thing he knew it was getting light outside.