I''ll Be There by Holly Goldberg Sloan
‘Their father said that he went down after them and broke his own leg. The state is sending out search teams.’
Debbie Bell was still in control as she continued. ‘It’s been a week now since this all happened. But they also know that two shots were fired from a shotgun. It’s possible they may not have survived.’
Debbie hadn’t thought much of Bobby Ellis until that afternoon. He seemed likable enough, but there was something competitive about him that made her uneasy.
And the same thing could be said for his parents.
They were accomplished and impressive, just not the kind of people who would ever be her good friends. She would have been hard-pressed to articulate why, but that’s how she felt.
But after they told Emily the news, and after she sank into the sofa and began to cry, the person who seemed to comfort her best was Bobby Ellis. His parents left right away. They felt out of place and uneasy. They assumed Bobby would leave with them, but he didn’t.
He stayed, quietly, by Emily on the couch, and just his existence, the reality of his being, was stabilising.
Debbie decided that the very part of Bobby Ellis’s character that was off-putting to her now became reassuring. His disconnected emotions were now a plus. And the simple fact was that the situation had changed. Her daughter needed someone.
And so Debbie Bell was grateful.
Emily wanted to go to Utah, but of course they wouldn’t let her. She didn’t believe that Sam and Riddle were dead.
No.
It was not possible. She would see Sam and Riddle again. She would find them. They would be back.
The police were wrong. She was right. It could not be.
She would be with Sam again. She would. Because what was the future if she could not be with him again? She had been telling herself that he was gone and that it was his choice and that it was over.
But she had never believed that.
Not really.
It was just something she had told herself because she knew Sam would be back at some point, maybe not for years, but one day.
Everything was now fuzzy. Everything looked different. She hadn’t seen the stains on the armchair in the living room until then. Were they always there?
Her mother looked like she was getting older. Her eyes. Was she tired or was she aging?
And her father. His hair had grey in it now. When had that happened?
Even Felix the dog looked worn-out.
Is that the way it goes?
She drank a glass of water, and it felt different when she swallowed. Not like water. Like pudding. She was drinking pudding, but it was clear. That’s why it was so hard to swallow.
And Bobby Ellis was with her. And he was quiet. He was the only one who wasn’t talking or touching her. Everyone else kept talking. Or trying to hug her. What were they saying?
They seemed to now be whispering. In other rooms she could hear the muffled voices. They made her little brother go to the neighbour’s and he didn’t want to go to the neighbour’s.
Her father asked if she wanted to call Nora or Katie or Anne or Lucy. Shouldn’t she call one of her close friends? Maybe Anneke or Haley or Remi? Wouldn’t that help?
Everyone wanted her to eat.
But she wasn’t hungry. Why did they want to feed her? They needed her to have a plan.
Bobby Ellis didn’t want to eat. He didn’t have any kind of plan.
And then her mother wanted her to take a pill. It would put her to sleep. That’s what they wanted. They wanted her to go to her room and rest.
She didn’t want to rest.
She wanted to go find him.
Outside it got windy. She watched and the trees were moving in all different directions. She didn’t remember that happening before. Did they always move like that? Shouldn’t the wind blow in one direction? Shouldn’t everything move one way?
Even the grass on the lawn was wiggling weirdly. If you looked carefully, you would see that the little blades of grass trembled. They all felt it blowing cold even though it was now late spring and almost summer and the chill was long gone.
Because now you could put on a sweater and still not feel any heat.
A chill was out there now. And it was everywhere.
Bobby had no idea what to do.
He’d never been with someone when they got devastating news. Even when his nana died, they didn’t tell him until after the funeral. They said that he was too little to understand, but he was ten years old and he understood very well what it meant to die. Plus he liked his nana. She gave him candy and cupcakes and she knew secrets and shared them. He still felt bad that they hadn’t let him be a part of it.
So he had no experience with any of this.
But this bad news was the kind of good news he’d been hoping for. And now that it was here, it was hollow and empty and he felt horrible that he’d ever wished such a thing.
That’s why he was so quiet. He felt guilty inside.
He’d been pretending to help. He’d been pretending that he wanted to find the two boys. Now he was so ashamed.
He’d thought of Sam as the Enemy. And that was wrong and maybe somehow this was now partly his fault. You just never knew.
None of this was going the way he’d planned.
And then she said she wanted to go for a walk, and he said he’d go if she wanted him to go, but he was sure she’d say no because she was saying no to everything.
But she said yes and then she put on a heavy coat like it was winter, but it wasn’t cold outside. And her parents were so happy that he was there to go walk with her, and it was the first time he felt like Emily’s mother might not hate him.
They went out onto the empty sidewalk and the light was low in the sky and night was coming on fast and he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t think of anything to say. So he didn’t say anything.
And then, at the end of the block, she reached over and she took his hand and she held on and gripped it hard and suddenly he started to cry.
It was what he wanted for so long, for her to reach out to him and to need him physically. And he couldn’t help it.
Tears just showed up in his eyes and spilled out down his cheeks, and he tried to hold on to his breathing and get it under control, but he couldn’t.
And he felt so stupid and like such a big baby.
But she didn’t see it that way. She wrapped her arms around him when she saw his tears and she held him and she was crying now, too.
But they were crying for different reasons.
29
The boat was just a bad idea.
The whale, as they called Riddle’s kayak, was now out of the water and used as one side of the den where they slept. Riddle wanted to ride it down the river to find help. He couldn’t stop talking about it.
Sam discussed this idea with himself as he lay on his back, staring up at the trees, which were always moving while he moved as little as possible.
First question: should two people get into a boat and head into rapids when they don’t have life jackets? Obvious answer: hell no.
Second question: should two people get into a boat and head into rapids when they don’t have life jackets and when one of the two people is terrified of water and when they both can’t really swim? He had tried to learn in Mexico. Would it come back to him? Obvious answer: hell no.
Third question: should two people get into a boat and head into rapids when they don’t have life jackets and when one of the two people is terrified of water and when they both can’t really swim and when they don’t have oars to row the boat? They just had sticks. Long branches, really, that Riddle thought would work. Oh, and one other thing: one of the people probably had broken ribs and a broken shoulder.
Not worth even answering. And so he told Riddle, no.
They would stay where they were. Someone would come. It was just a matter of time. Maybe it would be another week. They were surviving.
And then they made a mistake.
If you’re asleep for ninety-four days, you wake up hungry. Before you go down, you pack on the weight around the belly, about forty pounds was the way it usually went, and then you find a hollow log or a small cave and you call it a night.
But that night ends up being about three months. And by the time spring rolls around, you’d eat dirt if it had some ants or worms for seasoning. So it takes a few months to settle down when it comes to food.
Now there are roads and power lines out there, and they lead to all the places you can’t go.
The people places.
But despite all of the things they’ve built, and all the land they’ve taken over, we’re still standing in thirty-eight states.
All ten Canadian provinces. And even a lot of parts of Mexico.
Being a bear is a commitment. Not just to loving fresh fish and wild berries.
Every year there are people who take shots. Every year we’re run over by cars and trucks and even trains. We’re poisoned. Trapped. Attacked in all kinds of ways, really.
And every year, one of us strikes back. And that’s bad for all of us, because there is the issue of reputation. In order to get respect, it’s better to be dangerous but not deadly.
But some things can’t be helped. They call it mauling, what we do.
Most of the time, when this happens, it’s because we are surprised. We’re caught off guard. We’re scared, really. And if you weigh three hundred pounds and have forty-two razorlike teeth, claws with sharp points and a temper, stuff happens.
Sometimes, when things really go wrong, there can be some eating after the mauling. A leg or an arm. If the situation presents itself. Because, if no one is fighting back, the buffet table is basically open.
But again, not a first choice.
We love sweets. That’s often the downfall. We’d walk ten miles for honey.
And we’d find it, because we can smell it.
That’s how we find each other. And that’s how we find the good stuff.
And that’s how the two boys were found.
After they had eaten, Riddle would take the fish bones or the leftover bits of the greens, if there were any, and throw them into the river. He did this because little black flies and armies of ants would appear out of nowhere, hungry for any remains.
But after they’d eaten the chocolate bars that they’d found wrapped in tinfoil in the front of the kayak, Riddle kept the candy wrappings. They were a connection to the outside world. And they still smelled sweet.
But to a black bear, fresh from winter hibernation, the chocolaty aroma of the wrappers was something that, when the wind was blowing correctly, could be smelled for a quarter of a mile.
It was dawn. The sun had not yet cleared the rim of the mountain due east. Riddle got up twice in the middle of the night to throw wood on the smoldering embers, so he knew that the fire would still be going.
He took the old candy wrapper out of his pocket and inhaled. It comforted him. In the morning, everything was so quiet. There was only the rushing water and the sunrise chill. Even most of the birds were still asleep.
Riddle lay on his back for twenty minutes, thinking about how cold his feet got in the middle of the night, and then he heard what he assumed were the cracks and pops of the burning wood on the fire.
But these sounded different.
Sam, at his side, was still asleep. Riddle did not want to disturb him. He held his breath and listened.
More snaps. More cracks. Not the fire, he decided. Something else. Something taking steps?
And then he heard breathing. Not his breathing, because he wasn’t breathing now.
Riddle pushed off the pine needles and the ferns and the branches that they used to cover their bodies and he slowly pulled himself to a sitting position.
He could now see over the kayak, which was turned on its side as the barrier between them and the world.
And there, right there, only ten feet away, staring straight at him, was a mature male black bear.
Riddle was startled. And the bear was startled. Riddle sucked in his breath in a high-pitched gulp, and Sam’s eyes opened at the sound.
The bear then reared up onto his back legs, standing now over six feet tall. He held his head high, and his nostrils flared as he took in Riddle’s and Sam’s scent.
Sam could now see the bear. And the bear could now see Sam.
Would he maul them? Would he sink his teeth into the tops of their skulls, puncturing their brains and causing instant death?
Riddle didn’t move.
He stayed looking right at the bear, but not a muscle flinched. They remained that way, the bear on his hind legs, towering over them, and the two boys, staring back in horror.
Any normal kid would have collapsed in fear. But not Riddle.
He was afraid, but he was also in awe. And he was so close that he could smell the bear’s warm, sour breath.
The bear opened his mouth wider and began to blow air at the same time that he clacked his teeth together. It was a show of something. His teeth, shiny with his thick saliva, glistened.
After several moments of this explosive blowing and jaw rattling, the bear lowered his body to the ground and slammed the dirt hard with his front right paw. It left a perfect imprint.
And then, having delivered his warning, he turned and ran into the undergrowth.
The bear is what changed Sam’s mind.
He decided that he’d rather die in the freezing water than from a bear ripping him to pieces. He was now ready to try the kayak, because it would be impossible for him to sleep knowing that the bear was out there.
Sam didn’t realise the candy wrappers were in Riddle’s pocket. And Riddle didn’t know that they were what the bear wanted. They both didn’t know that the bear had no interest in them. The panting and paw thump had been a bluff.
But they assumed the worst.
And so they made a decision. They would get in the red boat.
They would try to make it down the roaring river.
Riddle used the duct tape found in the first-aid kit and wrapped two sticks across Sam’s back. The emergency pamphlet in the kayak said that a broken bone should be stabilised. It was going to be a rough ride. When he was done, Sam looked like a scarecrow.
The boys stuffed handfuls of green acorns into their pockets to chew when they got hungry. Riddle poured water on the fire that he and Sam had struggled relentlessly to keep going. They put sunscreen from the first-aid kit on their already sunburned faces. They coated their lips with waxy lip balm, and Sam took four aspirin to help dull the pain of his shoulder. And then very carefully, using Riddle’s help, Sam got into the kayak.
Riddle had branches from an aspen tree to use as oars, but they were more like ineffectual brakes that he held in the water. Climbing into the back, Riddle pushed the kayak away from shore, and they began their journey down the river.
I have seen people in boats, and they do not look afraid.
But maybe they can swim. We cannot swim.
Can bears swim?
Sam cannot help with the boat.
Sam is afraid. I am afraid.
It is a ride.
It is a wild ride.
It is a wild ride in our red boat for someone to find us.
The Utah County Sheriff Search and Rescue dogs verified that both of the boys had been on the road where the truck was found. And the two dogs followed the scent from the log on the uphill part of the road to the sheer drop on the edge.
A person couldn’t see many clues as to what happened. But to the scent hounds, it was clear: the boys had disappeared over the cliff.
Using global positioning to mark and map, the three search teams looked for a way to descend, with the dogs, down the steep terrain towards the river.
It took a full day for the lead search and rescue team to get halfway down the incline. Working with ropes and climbing gear, with the dogs lowered in harnesses, the team checked the sharp rocks, searching the lay
Once the dogs located where Sam had first landed, the team radioed back for more support. It wasn’t long before they tracked Riddle’s scent as well. They now knew that the boys had been at the bottom of the ravine.
They were putting the puzzle together.
Timing is everything.
And Sam and Riddle left their place at the river just hours before the search and rescue team arrived.
If Riddle’s shoe hadn’t come off, if the kayak hadn’t been discovered in the rushes, and if the bear hadn’t smelled the candy wrappers, they would have been sitting by their fire waiting to be found.
Instead they were hurtling down an icy river.
The rescue teams had no way of knowing about a kayak.
What they discovered was evidence that the boys had been, for some time, camped at the river’s edge. They found the trampled area where they had slept and the still-warm fire pit.
They also, at a distance, found bear tracks and bear scat. Had a bear scared the boys into the water?
The dogs found no scent of the boys past a two-mile radius from their encampment.
If the boys had gone into the river, they would have drowned. Had one fallen in and the other gone to rescue him? A water team, with wetsuits and scuba gear, was brought in to search the river in the area where the boys had camped.
They found nothing.
Junie and Faith, the two UCSSAR dogs, sat at the river’s edge where the kayak had been launched and whimpered, driving everyone crazy. The dogs could smell what the people could not. And they were trying to say, They were in a boat. That’s what happened.
But no one would listen.
30
On the night that they’d received the bad news, Bobby Ellis and Emily fell asleep on the couch in the living room.
Emily was coiled in a ball in the corner like a cold puppy. Bobby’s over-six-foot body was stretched out long, like someone who was accustomed to a king-size bed and didn’t know when he wasn’t in one.