Page 19 of Backpacking through Bedlam

“Sarah is the adopted granddaughter,” said Sally, carefully.

“Adopted something or other,” I agreed. “She’s Kevin’s wife’s sister, but she’s the same age as the grandkids, so she’s functionally a granddaughter. I’d say you’re going to like her, but I can’t actually be sure about that. Sarah’s pretty shy. She doesn’t like most people, unless they’re secretly comic books. Are you secretly a comic book?”

“I don’t think so,” said Sally. “I think I’d know if I were. Pretty sure I’m just a girl from Maine.”

“About that,” said Thomas. “When I came over in the other room, the two of you seemed to be discussing what was going to happen when we got back to Earth. I think we all have some assumptions. It might be good to clear them up now.”

“I know . . .” Sally began, then hesitated, looking at her feet as she tried to sort through her words. Finally, she looked back up, and said, “I know you think families should stay together, and you have this idea about finding my parents when we get back, see if I can’t go on home to them. But they’re not . . . they’re not like you. There’s no way I could explain everything to them. For them, I disappeared and I probably died, and coming back now would just rip open all those old wounds and convince them I was a liar. James was always more family to me than they were.”

Thomas blinked, taken aback.

“They acted like they couldn’t be racist because they adopted a Korean kid,” said Sally. “They never learned to speak Korean, or tried to make sure I kept any sort of connection to my heritage, or anything like that. It would have been work, and they’d already done all the work of adopting a needy foreign kid because their church told them it would be a good thing. They hated that I liked girls. Mom was in total denial. Said I’d get over it, and James and I would settle down and get married and have lots of happy babies. Dad said it was just a phase and everyone’s confused when they’re a kid. They didn’t beat me. They made sure I had food and shoes, and they paid for me to go to cheer camp and they didn’t get mad that my best friend was a boy, or when I went to senior prom with James. They were probably real upset when I disappeared. Only at least half of it was for show, because they knew they were supposed to be real upset when their only kid vanished. Either they’re enjoying being childless, or they have a new kid in my room by now. Hoping that this time, they’ll get a dutiful daughter instead of a screw-up.”

I stepped away from Thomas. “You’re not a screw-up. You stayed alive in a place that wanted you dead, and you’re only the second person I’ve met who made their crossroads deal for a good reason. Thomas was the first.”

He snorted. “Of course you’d think so.”

“I mean, sure. If you hadn’t done it, I’d be dead, and while I might have come back as a ghost, I probably wouldn’t have, and the kids wouldn’t have existed. I like the kids. I like the grandkids, too. They’re a net benefit to the world. So yeah, I think your deal was made for a good reason. Sally, I don’t know yet if her deal was a net benefit to the world, but since the boy she made it for is running around with the grandkids, I’m willing to bank on ‘yes.’ You are both saints who didn’t deserve what the crossroads did to you, and when we get home, you can have cake.”

“I miss cake,” said Sally.

The mice, who had been riding quietly in my pack, cheered, ear-splittingly loud. We all winced.

“Do you still maintain a colony in Michigan?” asked Thomas.

I nodded. “I do.”

“Very well, then. Sally, I shan’t ask you to look for your family, only tell you that you’re welcome to do so if you desire, and your penance for choosing to remain lost to them will be life with a full colony of Aeslin mice.”

“The mice are pretty cool,” she said, with a sideways smile. “They keep making religious rituals out of things I say and shit, and that’s neat.”

“It’s neat now, when you have one priest,” I said. “Once you have an entire clergy, you may think differently. Thomas? Does that mean you’re okay with going back to Michigan?”

There were so many things we’d been putting off deciding, because we had so far to go before we’d be going home and needing to worry about them. Sally had always been something of a given, even if Thomas had believed there was some way she wouldn’t be; she was his kid, even if he hadn’t set out to adopt her, and I knew a familial bond when I saw one. And yeah, I might get frustrated sometimes, but I wasn’t frustrated enough to try to separate them. I don’t think I could ever be that frustrated.

But where we wound up after we got back to Earth . . . that had been up in the air. On the one hand, there was Michigan. Buckley Township, where we had the house and the tailypo and the Red Angel, and all the other things that would be at least somewhat familiar to the both of us. On the other hand, there was Portland, Oregon, where both our adult children and the majority of our grandchildren could be found. Thomas was just as focused on the importance of family as I was—more, maybe, since he’d never voluntarily run away from them. He wanted to get to know the kids. That meant being near them.

He smiled and reached out to push my hair back from one side of my face, tucking it behind my ear. “I want us to both be as comfortable as possible, and Sally, too. I want us to get accustomed to home. And if that means having some distance between you and the rest of the family, I’ll still be closer than I’ve been in fifty years.”

“Get a room,” said Sally, rolling her eyes.

“We did, you just came with it,” I snapped, and she laughed, and this was all falling together. Soon enough, this would all be over.

Six

“Children are mirrors of their parents. What they reflect is what you show them.”

—Jonathan Healy

Getting ready to leave Pteracercus for Ithaca

TRUE TO WHAT I had guessed would happen when I saw our refugees with the locals, the ones I thought of as their leaders came to us in the morning, explaining their intent to stay in the halting, awkward manner of people who weren’t sure whether or not they were about to cause offense. In the end, Thomas hugged a man who’d been one of his closest advisors, wished them luck in this new world, and came back to me and Sally with a smile on his face and a new lightness in his step.

After fifty years of keeping these people alive, he was responsible for no one but himself and his family, and most of his family was pretty self-sufficient. I slipped my hand into his, matching his smile with my own.

“Well?” I asked. “Can we get to Ithaca from here, or do we need to go back to where we started? Because I’ll be honest, I could do without walking through the giant spider killing chute a second time.”

Thomas responded by closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, he sighed and pointed back the way we’d come. “I’m afraid the nearest crossing point is some distance that way. Perhaps we can request an escort?”