The Book of Joby (71 page)

“Thanks for the ride,” Joby said, climbing into Cal’s truck the next evening.

“When you gonna grow up an’ get a car of your own?” Cal teased.

“On a teacher’s salary, that might be a few years off yet,” Joby replied self-consciously. “But I do appreciate your help, Cal.”

“No problem.” Cal grinned. “Course, you owe me now.”

“What’s it gonna be this time?” Joby groaned. “My lunch money for a month?”

“Think you’re pretty fast, don’t ya.” Cal smiled. “School’s out for summer, so there ain’t no lunch money. No, I’ll just think about it some and get back to you.”

Joby laughed. “You Bobs have a bright future in the outside world, you know.”

“Plan to be king,” Cal grinned back, “soon as I graduate.”

Spring had made the Ridge more beautiful than ever. Joby was so taken with the scenery that it seemed only moments before they arrived at Laura’s. Cal parked the truck and Joby jumped out, then realized that Laura’s car was nowhere to be seen.

“You sure they’re here?” Cal asked.

“They invited me to dinner,” Joby said. “I can’t imagine she forgot.”

“Well, better make sure before I dump you here,” Cal said, getting out of
his truck to mount the rickety stairs beside Joby. Joby knocked at the door, but got no answer. A second knock produced the same result.

Cal tried the door and found it open.

“That’s weird,” Joby said.

“Maybe we should go in and make sure everything’s all right.”

“I don’t think we should go in when they’re not home,” Joby said.

“Aw, lighten up.” Cal smiled, and pushed through the door into the entrance hall. “Hello? Anybody home?” There was no answer.

“I guess they forgot,” Joby said, trying to shrug off his disappointment. “We should go.”

Cal shook his head. “Hold on a minute. Somethin’ don’t feel right here.”

He walked slowly down the hall toward the kitchen and living room as Joby followed.

Arriving first, Cal stopped, staring into the living room, mouth open in shock. “Joby, I think you better see this,” he whispered, looking frightened.

Rushing to Cal’s side in alarm, Joby stepped into the kitchen and—

“SURPRISE!”

All of Taubolt seemed to be there, laughing uproariously at Joby’s frightened expression. Cal leaned against the kitchen counter behind him, half-crippled with mirth.

“What . . . the hell is this?” Joby asked.

“Happy birthday, Joby,” said Laura, coming up to hug him.

Joby’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God! . . . I . . . It’s June tenth?”

“You narner!” Hawk laughed. “Should’ve got you a
calendar
for your present!”

Joby turned and slugged Cal in the arm. “You had me thinking someone was dead in here.” He scowled happily. Turning back to Laura, he said, “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“I can’t believe you forgot,” she teased.

“This is unbelievable! What if I hadn’t come?”

“We had contingency plans,” Mrs. Lindsay said.

“You were all in on this,” Joby said in wonder. “Where’d you all park?”

“Way up the road!” Jupiter groaned. “Such a long hike back, I almost got lost again!”

Half the kids from school, most of their parents, and virtually everyone else he knew in Taubolt was there. Then Joby spotted Nacho’s devilish grin at the back of the crowd, where he stood on crutches beside his parents. It was the first time Joby had seen him since he’d gone to the hospital in Santa
Rosa for reconstructive surgery. Joby went to greet him, returning a steady stream of cheerful greetings and good wishes along the way.

“Good to see you, Nacho.” He smiled. “How’s your leg?”

“Healing faster than medical science can explain.” The boy grinned.

Nacho’s father, a tall man with unruly currents of red sand–colored hair, nodded toward the window and said, “There’s something out here we’d all like you to have a look at, Joby.”

The room fell quiet as Joby walked to the window and looked down on the gravel drive that wrapped around Laura’s house. Other than an old station wagon someone had parked there, he saw nothing but the usual scenery.

“It looks a little giddily,” Nacho said, “but it runs pretty good. We’ve taken real great care of it.”

“Well, Nacho’s been a little hard on it actually,” his mother said disapprovingly.

“Hey! I fixed up all the big stuff!” Nacho protested.

“He’s quite a mechanic,” Nacho’s father conceded proudly. “It should last you a few years at least.”

“What . . . are you talking about?” Joby asked, thinking they couldn’t mean what it sounded like they meant.

“Everyone chipped in and bought it from us.” Nacho grinned.

“It was time to get a new one anyway.” His father smiled.

“But . . . Thank you, but this is too much. It’s got to be worth—”

“A lot less than our son’s life,” Nacho’s mother said.

“And we’re all tired as hell of carting you around!” said Cal.

Everyone laughed, and Joby shook his head, trying not to get emotional. “Well, thank you all so much. I can’t think of what to say except that, whether you know it or not, you’ve all saved my life too. . . . Taubolt’s given me everything I ever wanted. I owe you all big time.”

Someone started singing “Happy Birthday,” and everyone joined in, while Joby stood grinning “like an eejit,” Cal said later.

An avalanche of wonderful food began appearing then. By now, Joby had discovered that Taubolt was potluck paradise. Ian Kellerman had assembled a band of local musicians who played an odd but lively fusion of funk, blue-grass, and Celtic swing, better for dancing one’s brains out than any music Joby had ever heard.

Finally Laura produced a blazing birthday cake, and Joby blew the candles out to much cheering, secretly wishing that Taubolt would never change.

A moment later, he saw Hawk and Rose heading outside together. Hawk’s arm was around her waist, and she didn’t seem to mind.

Later, as he passed Hawk in the kitchen, Joby said quietly, “Way to go, bro.”

“What?” Hawk replied.

“With Rose.” Joby grinned. “I saw you puttin’ the moves on a minute ago.”

Hawk grinned back, and said, “Bet I know who
you’re
in love with.”

To hear it launched so boldly from the lips of Laura’s own kid seemed somehow indecent, though Joby could not deny it. “And who would that be?” he asked lamely.

“I still wish she’d married you instead of Sandy,” Hawk said shyly. “I’d rather have had you for a father.”

“Well,” Joby said, feeling touched. “Would being brothers do?”

“I guess,” Hawk said.

“Brothers it is, then.” Joby grinned. “I’m honored as hell, Hawk. Best birthday present I ever got—even better than the car. I mean it.”

“No problem.” Hawk smiled, holding out his hand. “Wanna shake on it?”

“You’re really weird, you know,” Joby laughed. But he shook on it.

“Who’s got that avocado?” Jupiter asked, gingerly balancing a hot tortilla laden with beans and slices of pepper jack cheese.

“Blue ate it all,” Ander said mischievously, his charcoal-smudged face aglow in the flickering firelight as twilight deepened over the lake behind them.

“Hey! There was only this much left!” Blue protested, pinching his fingers together to show how little. “Ask
Tholomey
who ate most of it.”

Blue’s younger brother grinned sheepishly. “I thought there was another one.”

“Tholomey,”
Jupiter complained, “you packed in all the vegetables! How could you think there was another one?”

“He carried ’em, he should get a bigger share if he wants,” Sky said, rolling his eyes, and tossing Jupiter a tomato. “Here, finish that, and you guys’ll be even.”

“Yeah, you narner,” Tholomey taunted. “Don’t get
precipitous.
”

There were chuckles from around the circle. Several weeks earlier, Agnes Hamilton had written a letter to the editor of Taubolt’s weekly paper complaining about the “precipitous high jinks of Taubolt’s loitering youth” on the streets that summer, and its “detrimental effect on tourism.” Since then, Taubolt’s kids had taken to abusing the word “precipitous” at every opportunity.

Joby’s cheeks ached from smiling as he watched them negotiate the finer points of wilderness dining. Ms. Hamilton notwithstanding, the summer had passed in delicious splendor. Perhaps because of the semi-celebrity conferred by his rescue of Nacho and the others that spring, or because he had a car now and was always happy to drive them around, or perhaps just because he truly liked them, Taubolt’s youth had lured Joby into one marvelous escapade after another all summer, until, by now, he counted many of them closer friends than he’d had since he, Ben, and Laura had been children.

As the end of August had drawn near, a bunch of “the guys,” as Joby now thought of them, had decided that a camping trip was in order before returning to their scholastic prison. Sky and Joby had offered to drive. From stashes of their own old equipment, the boys had outfitted Joby for backpacking up to a lake that Blue and Tholomey knew of high in the coastal range separating Taubolt from “the mainland.” The seven of them—Ander, Sky, Jupiter, Hawk, Blue, Tholomey, and Joby—had driven inland for over two hours on half-ruined dirt roads, then spent a full day hiking ever upward beside a wide river that tumbled over huge stones between high rock ledges into clear, emerald pools filled with fish.

For Joby, who had never backpacked before, the hike up had been a vivid mix of stunning visual beauty and slow physical torment. The day had been hot, the pack heavier and heavier, and the riverbed trail steep and boulder strewn. But first sight of the lake itself had been ample reward. Some ancient cataclysm had dumped great slabs of rock into the river, forming a wide, clear reservoir surrounded on three sides by low stony peaks, sheer rock ledges, and occasional evergreens. The gap through which the boys had come opened on a sweeping view of ridge after forested ridge, clear back to the coast.

Recalling their arrival still made Joby want to laugh. After the hot and arduous hike, the boys had all run whooping and hollering toward the lake, dropping their packs along the way, then, as quickly and carelessly, their clothes, before leaping joyfully into the water. Beyond the fact that Joby had always thought of skinny-dipping as a somewhat “shady” activity, he’d also been keenly aware of being the group’s lone adult, not to mention their teacher. So when Hawk had loudly demanded to know what Joby was waiting for, he’d stripped off everything but his boxers, and hobbled uncertainly down to a stone ledge at the shoreline to dive in.

“What, yer gonna leave your shorts on?” Tholomey had teased. “Mama’s boy!”

“Some of us are too modest to show off,” Joby had parried, then dove in.
But the lake itself had overruled him, tugging his shorts off to drift somewhere behind him as he’d swept out of his dive in a long, swift arc beneath the surface. By the time Joby had come up for air, Hawk and Tholomey, who’d been close enough to see what happened, had been howling with laughter.

“Serves you right!” Hawk had laughed.

Tholomey had quickly disappeared underwater, then splashed up again to shout, “
That’s
what you were worried about showing off? Don’t make me laugh!”

After that, even Joby had been unable to keep a straight face. He’d gone under to retrieve his shorts, mooning Hawk and Tholomey in the process, and resurfaced to toss the sodden ball of cloth back onto shore before initiating a splashing war with his two gleeful detractors. Their war was quickly joined by all the others, and by the time they’d grown cold and tired enough to come out of the water, the issue of clothing had become as moot for Joby as it was for everyone else. They’d all lain about on the hot sunny shoreline to bake dry in the sun, and when it had come time to rise and go set up their campsite, Joby had donned his clothes again with dull regret.

For three days since, they had laughed and swum and hiked together through this pristine, sunny haven, high above the surrounding landscape. At night, they’d slept with nothing over their heads but the countless stars, watching the sun rise again at dawn without having to leave their sleeping bags.