Page 141 of The River We Remember

Del shook him off. “If he comes back, do me a favor.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Tell him from me to go to hell.”

The barkeep smiled in broad approval. “I just might do that, kid.”

Outside, the sun had sunk low in the sky. Although all he’d done much of the day was ride on the motorbike, Scott was tired. In fact, he was exhausted, that faulty heart of his working hard. He wanted to be home and resting.

“Let’s just go back to Jewel, Del.”

“I’m not going back. They’ll make me take that fuggin’ bus to Saint Paul. I’m not leaving until I find Creasy, or someone has.”

“Maybe they’ve already found him.”

The boys stood in the long shadow of Willy’s, in a town that was a gathering of a couple of dozen houses, one gas station, a small grocery store, and the bar. But for them, the street was empty. The loneliness of the place weighed on Scott, and he still had no idea what, exactly, Del might actually do if they found Creasy. He didn’t like thinking about that.

Del considered the possibility of what Scott had suggested, that Creasy had been found. “Maybe, Madman,” he said.

“Let’s go back and find out.”

“I’m not going to your house.”

“We can call from a pay phone.”

“Where?”

“Fort Beloit. We’ve got to get our stuff anyway, and that way we don’t even have to go into town.”

Del looked at the sky, which at the moment was an immense, washed-out, cloudless blue. He gave a nod. “All right.”

They kept to back roads. A few miles outside Jewel, they saw a column of black smoke against the horizon.

“Big fire somewhere,” Del called out, and he turned west to avoid trouble.

According to the clock on the wall of the concession stand at Fort Beloit, it was nearing seven when the boys arrived. They each bought a Coke and a hot dog, then Scott dropped a dime into the pay phone on the outside wall and called home. His mother answered, and the relief in her voice nearly shattered his resolve.

“Oh, Scott, you’re all right.”

“Of course I am, Mom.”

“Where are you?”

“Safe,” he said and hated himself for what he knew was cruelty. “Have they found Tyler Creasy yet?”

“They haven’t. You come home. You come home this minute.”

“I can’t, Mom. Del needs me.”

“This isn’t a game, Scott.”

“We have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Find him.”

“And then what?”