Counting the Miles

The Dark And Loneliness

THE DARK AND LONELINESS

It takes Davis at least fifteen minutes to grab his emergency things, he’s very well prepared as well. He arrives just after I finish tacking Jasper. One horse was going to be a lot, but two. I bet we can pull through, though with all the money Davis gave me.

“Well,” he says, “Say good bye. It might be awhile ‘till we see this place again.”

“We better go, before the police come looking for me,” I mutter. Davis mounts Jasper and I hop on Montoya

“Wait, do you have a somewhere in mind?”

“No, I was just gonna ride and see where Montoya takes me.”

“Well, there is one place we could go,” he says. I haven’t the slightest idea where he’s talking about. But, on the other hand, what other option do we have?

“Alright, show me.” We ride out of the barn and turn on a gravel road. After awhile of riding, I look up at the sky, it’s getting dark so I say, “Davis, Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Yes, I know where we are.” He stops at the end of the road, with trees on both sides, backs up, and gallops over a familiar fence. I do the same and notice three large horse-like silhouettes standing on top of the hill. Immediately I know where we are.

“Ben Conford,” I say to myself. This is the last place I expected Davis to take me. I was thinking of somewhere along the lines of his Aunt Holly, who live close to here. Or some friend of his…

“He can help us,” he says as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“With what? I bet he has no connection at all to my parents.”

“I bet he does.” Davis pulls out a picture, but I can’t see it, it’s too dark. So I walk closer and take the picture out of his hands.

Just then, a bright light appears from behind us and I heard the growl of an engine and the grinding of tires on the gravel road. I turn around to see an old run-down ford truck turn to the right into the forest. I pull on the rains and kick Montoya’s sides. I turn my head over my shoulder to make sure Davis is doing the same, but he isn’t. I gallop back to ask him what he’s thinking.

“What are you doing, isn’t this the right way to Ben’s house?” I ask.

“Yeah, but God knows who was in that truck, Charlotte. It could have been the police, searching us down. We can’t go there now.” Davis hops off Jasper and I do the same.

“But, it’s getting dark; we have to go someplace.” I can feel the dark and loneliness surrounding me; trying to strangle me. I know the tears will come very soon if we don’t come up with somewhere to go. I look over at Davis to see him staring up at the newly appearing stars. I pull out the flashlight from my bag and point it in front of me. I see nothing but more darkness. “Davis,” I say after a while of him not saying anything, “where do we go now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Davis,” I repeat, thankful that I’m not alone right now.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re here.” I struggle at the words. “Thanks for coming with me.” I feel the tears start rolling down my cheeks.

“Charlotte, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” I can tell by the sound of his voice that he knows I’m starting to cry. “Can you think of anywhere we could go just to sleep?”

I try to think of any possible place to go. “Uh, well there is one place,” I speak hesitantly.

“Where?” He says urgently. Davis obviously doesn’t like this any more than I do.

“In the woods.” John and I built a hunting fort when I was twelve. It clings to a branch high above the ground on the tallest tree in the woods. We can see the entire forest from up in that tree house. I haven’t seen that thing in a long time. John built it to out whether any storm the blows through so if it hasn’t survived I’d be very surprised.

“Oh,” Davis looks disappointed and I know exactly why. But I ask anyway.

“Why do you look disappointed?”

“I just thought you would come up with somewhere less…I don’t know…never mind.” He looks at the ground.

“Well.” I look up to the dark sky. “It’s getting dark… I think we go,” I turn my head to Davis. He is back on top of Jasper, so I mount Montoya.

“Ok, let’s go,” He replies kicking Jasper’s sides.

We are over the fence and in the woods within five minutes. Davis let’s me go in front when we approach the woods. I have to point the flashlight and stir Montoya in the right direction at the same time. The dark woods scare me at night; the bushes move at the slightest blow and all you can hear is the sound of hooves on the forest floor and the rustling of the bushes as we rode by.