Three Converts

Part 28

Before I opened my eyes I noticed this mountain sounded just like mine during sunrise. Silent. Heavenly. I heard Griffin shuffling around outside our little cave, and I worried I slept too late. When I pushed the robe off me, the chilly mountain air replaced it, covering me in goosebumps. I flipped over and scooted, bottom first out of the cave, dragging the robe with me. I slipped it over my clothes once I got out, for extra warmth.

"Morning. How'd you sleep?" Griffin asked.

"Hi. Good. Actually, really good."

"You." Griffin pointed at me. "Are a robe hog."

"What?"

"You stole that robe all night long."

"I did not! You're crazy!"

"Ha! Total robe hog."

"Well, you're a liar. But I forgive you. What's the plan today?"

"Today we rejoin civilization! I think we're making good time. Have something to eat and we'll hit the road. Er, the path." I stuffed some food in my mouth, then made Griffin walk down the path so I could change into my Mother's pants and t-shirt. Pulling the shirt over my head, I caught a whiff of the lake water and found it hard to breathe for a second. Franklin's face flashed and I could hear the crunch of the glass in his eye. I knew that was my imagination. The only sounds I'd actually heard were he and I struggling and panting. You didn't hear a crunch. You didn't hear a crunch, I repeated to myself.

I shivered again, though I had warmed up considerably. I tried to flatten my hair a bit, rinsed my mouth with some water, and pushed any thoughts of Franklin back down the mountain. "Let's move," I suggested to Griffin. It was impossible to believe that this time yesterday I was saying good-bye to my family forever. I touched the hem of my mother's shirt.

"You okay?" Griffin asked.

"I guess. Everything is so real this morning. It seems like a hundred years ago Franklin... and the glass. And my family." Griffin understood my fragments.

"Yeah. It does seem like a long time ago." We walked on. "You're doing the right thing, you know."

"By not staying and taking responsibility for stabbing Franklin?"

"From what you tell me they'd never hear you out. You'd be in that stupid pillory right now. Or worse."

He was right. The town stayed out of Robe business, so I wouldn't get help from them, and I already knew what the council was capable of.

I breathed in and exhaled slowly. It was useless to dwell on the situation. I certainly didn't want to go back, so the only other option was forward. "Let's talk about something else," I suggested. Luckily, Griffin was a morning person. He chatted away, telling me stories about the traveling fair and what it was like going from city to city. He told me stories about Gordo and bailing him out when he was mischievous. He clued me in to all the other fair workers: Blah was a jokester, Blah was cranky before he had his coffee, but a gem after, Blah and Blah were expecting their first baby, etc. I giggled my way down the path. It was exactly the distraction I needed.

Before I knew it, Griffin's stomach was growling again. "Are you always hungry?" I accused him.

"Yup!" He reached in our bag without one ounce of shame. "But I made myself wait until lunchtime. Look." He pointed upward, and sure enough the sun was right above us.

"Well, in that case, I'll take some of that." I tore a chunk of bread out of his hand and stuffed it in my mouth, thankful to Dobson for the millionth time. This would be a very different, much more miserable trip without the provisions Dobson gave us. "Mm. Dobson is a saint."

Griffin made a weird snorting noise. "'Saint' might be a stretch. He's an outlaw, don't forget."

I pulled another piece of bread off, "An outlaw with a heart of gold!" I was laying it on a little thick, but needling Griffin was a fun way to pass the time.

He muttered something that sounded like "Give me a break." Before I could ask him to repeat himself, I heard voices. I whipped around and hit Griffin to get his attention. A boy and girl were coming up around the curvy trail, toward us. I froze. Were they looking for me? Did the council send them? "They're just hiking, they're just out for a hike," Griffin whispered close to my ear.

"Are you sure?"

"Shhhhh." He pulled me over to a boulder. "I need a water break," he announced loudly. "Just let them pass us," he whispered, digging the water bottle out of the bag."

The couple slowed down near us. "Howdy!" the boy, who was actually a young man exclaimed. "Can you tell us how much farther to Bellevale?"

"I think we're about seven miles out," Griffin said in a friendly tone, but not one that expressed a desire to keep chatting. He was quite amazing when it came to nonverbal skills, actually.

"Seven miles?!" the girl cried. "I'm never going to make it seven more miles!" She burst into tears. Her friend? Boyfriend? Husband? Took her in his arms, stroking in hair, whispering to her and kissing her. I made a face at Griffin like, "This is embarrassing. Let's leave them alone." But Griffin, being Griffin, couldn't help himself.

"Are you okay? Is something we can help you with?" Good grief. So much for laying low.

"Um, I think they probably just want some privacy, G." I caught myself just before I tacked his name on.

"Actually, we're in a bit of a pickle." The man sounded so desperate, even I paused to see if we could help. "We- uh. We're headed to my um- cousin's in Mayrood. I'm Jerry, this is Eliana." The woman was keeled over, sobbing now. I was growing more alarmed. "We... we were hoping to be closer. I'm not sure-"

"I'm having a baby!" The woman screamed, cutting him off. She flung her upper body up straight and for the first time, I saw a little bump under her shirt.

Griffin backed up several steps. "Oh! Oh."

I wanted to ask what in the world they weredoing in the mountains if she was about to have a baby, but it didn't seem likethe right time to ask. As if she read my mind, the woman panted, "Listen- we'lltell you the whole blessed story. Happy to! After this baby comes. Which ishappening like RIGHT NOW!" She shook my arm and got down on the ground. Herback raised like a cat, jolting me into action.