A Kingdom of Our Own

Chapter Thirteen - Departure

It was a hot, sticky, midsummer morning with clear skies, leaving no evidence of the light rainfall that had passed by just hours before. Given that it was only seven in the morning, it was surprisingly bright outside and with it looking to be another scorcher of a day, Dalton rubbed a sizeable splodge of sun cream onto the back of his neck. He didn’t tan well and the last thing he wanted was to spend the next week on the road looking like a lobster.

And so with less than two hours’ sleep and a nerve-racking day about to begin, they started to head down Harry’s street and watched the eastern sky turn orange. The rush hour would normally be at its height by this time, but the streets were in fact desolate, with residents in their thousands calling in sick from hangovers.

Dalton thought about yesterday, and how he’d woken up as an ordinary kid, without a clue on the events that would soon take hold of him and change his life forever. Whether or not that change was to be for the better or for the worse was still very much uncertain. He’d just have to wait, remain patient, and keep a clear head from hereon. Don’t you go doing anything rash Dalton Hughes, he thought critically to himself. We’re in enough of a mess as it is, let alone stirring up our own trouble along the way.

They headed through the outer suburbs of Portland with much haste, not wanting to be spotted by any of the locals or bump into any unwanted acquaintances along the way. It wasn’t until they’d been travelling for more than an hour and had almost left the city behind them that they allowed their pace to slow to a more leisurely one and they began to take in and appreciate the sights around them.

The final houses at the edge of the city limits had disappeared behind the trees as they entered a large open area called North Park. To the left of them lay a grassy area, with flowers and a pavilion where families could have picnics in the summer. To the right, a small trail ventured ever further into the trees. It was in this direction that they were headed.

The bike trail ran beside a baseball field, then cut through a dense section of woods. The branches of the trees met above it, giving a tunnel-like darkness. The bright sunlight flickered through intermittently. An occasional biker or dog walker forced them from the asphalt path for a few seconds.

The walk was certainly refreshing. After an entire morning of being cooped up in Harry’s humid and quite frankly sweaty bedroom, Dalton could barely restrain himself as they ambled through the woods. He missed his bike already, the one his Father had bought him for his eleventh birthday, and remembered how nice it used to be when he and Elijah went out on trails like this and raced through the trees without a worry in the world. Just an ordinary, bored kid again. The bike was the last thing his Dad had ever given him and the thought that he may never see it again, that Blake could be getting ready auction it off at this very moment along with the rest of his personal possessions made his blood boil.

He thought of the crowded streets of Portland, and the suburbs in which he’d lived all these years, with kids running everywhere and games of all sorts materialising without a moment’s notice. Being in the forest also brought back nostalgic memories of the private little trails he’d discovered off his own woods across the fields from his house and the long, solitary walks he had enjoyed all his life. And, strange as it seemed, he was even finding it hard to let go of his hiding places from Blake, under the trees and beside the creeks where he could sit and think, and, yes, plot on his stepfather’s eventual removal. If only things could be so simple now.

“What am I doing here?” Dalton asked himself, his voice barely audible. Until this point they had been walking in utter silence, alone with their personal thoughts and so on hearing this, Harry looked up.

“It was your idea,” he said, hands stuck in a pair of grubby jeans. “Do you want to go home already? There’s still time to turn back.”

“What’s home?” Dalton asked contemptuously, raising his eyebrows at his friend’s comment.