The Gift

Chapter 70

Whit

It might not surprise you to find out that I wasn't just an athlete in the old days, I was also a fourth-degree Falcon Scout. So I know that generally when you're lost in the woods, the first job is to find shelter.

But on a night as perfect as this one, we're not stressing about it.

We've already walked several miles-west, back toward Freeland-and though it's starting to get a little cool, we're just going to sleep under the stars.

The sun has dipped below the horizon, and things are starting to get pretty dark. From here on out, we're strictly going to be feeling our way around.

"Bring a flashlight?" I ask my sister jokingly. "We could use it to find two sticks. And then we could rub them together, and -" Suddenly the tree trunks ahead of me are flickering with dancing orange light.

I spin around to face Wisty. And there on the ground, with my sister sitting cross-legged in front of it, is the most perfect campfire I've ever seen, complete with encircling stones and a nearby stack of wood.

"Fire looks a little hot," I say, referencing the six-foot-high flames nearly licking the overhanging branches of the trees.

"No problemo," says Wisty and, as if she were turning a dial on a stove, drops the flames down to a more manageable foot or two.

"And without your drumstick," I observe. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well, I've always done better out of school," she says. Her pale face is flushed, glowing. She looks like she's just risen from the dead. "I know it sounds dumb, but it feels so good. To just be able to use my power. Without being crushed. It's like I didn't even realize how heavy the weight was until it was gone."

"I know what you mean. I feel it, too." And it's true. Without even focusing too terribly hard, I'm able to produce three hot dogs on the ends of three bamboo skewers. It's almost as if there's been a backup of energy and potential from all that time I hadn't been using any of it.

"Sweet," says Wisty as she takes her dog. "Maybe you did learn something at the BNW Center."

"I don't give them credit for anything beyond learning to love lima beans," I joke. "Which, actually, is a handy skill when times are lean and mean. Remember when Mom and Dad were, like, the emperors of discount vacations? I swear we spent more time in the woods than we did indoors."

Wisty nods, and we start roasting our dogs. "Remember that time it was raining so badly and Dad slipped and fell off the path into the swamp and all the food was in his pack and it got ruined?" She laughs.

"Yeah. It was a long hike back to civilization for dinner," I say, but I'm remembering something else now about that day. "Weird…"

"What?"

"I never mentioned this 'cause it didn't mean anything to me at the time. I overheard Dad saying to Mom something like 'We could just solve this the easy way, Liz.' And then Mom said, 'We promised each other never to take the easy way. Especially with the kids. They need to learn the hard way.'" Wisty takes it in. "You think they meant magic? Or whatever it is that we're doing-'realizing our potential'?"

"I think they didn't want us to just rely on magic to get what we wanted. I guess that's why they didn't teach us about it at all. They wanted us to -"

"Learn to do stuff the hard way? So we'd understand what the rest of the world was going through?"

I nod. "Could be."

"Well, Mom and Dad, wherever you are…" Wisty looks up at the sky. "We're learning the hard way. The really hard way. Hope you're happy. Somehow, I really hope you're happy."