Free Tiger by William Richter Page B

detour?” she asked Kyle.
    â€œSure. Where to?”
    â€œMy friends live on a farm north of Utica. If we just stay on the interstate it’ll only add an hour or so.”
    â€œSounds good. I’ll be glad if you get something from this trip too.”
    Another hour of driving took them to the exit at a town called Mohawk, and from there they drove country roads north into a stretch of lush green pastureland. For miles, one farm flew by after another, with lakes and scattered woodland in between. A turn onto a long dirt road eventually led them to a two-story white farmhouse on top of a small hill, overlooking a lake. The sign at the open gate read NEVERSINK FARM .
    They paused at the gate and looked the place over.
    â€œWow,” Kyle said. “This is the real deal, right? An actual farm.”
    â€œI guess so,” Wally said. “I’ve never been here before.”
    â€œDid your friends grow up here, or what?”
    â€œNo, it’s a kind of residential thing for at-risk youths. Kids from the street and all that. They work the farm and go to school. A fresh start. Which is what my friends needed more than anything.”
    â€œThat actually sounds good. I wonder if they have room for me,” he joked.
    They pulled into the dirt driveway and motored up to the farmhouse, where they parked and climbed out of the Explorer. Two other vehicles were parked there, both of them well-used and rusted old Ford pickup trucks. Several other buildings sprawled over the property, including a huge red barn—of course—and another building that looked like it might be a bunkhouse. The pasture held sheep and goats and about twenty head of cattle, as far as Wally could tell.
    The setting was beautiful and calm—like a perfect landscape painting, Wally thought. She imagined Jake and Ella—two city kids—working this farm in overalls and flannel shirts. She couldn’t help smiling at the idea. They were adaptable, for sure. They would thrive as long as they were together.
    An unassuming man in his forties came out to meet them. He wore canvas work pants and a T-shirt. His clean-shaven face was weathered and creased, evidence of a life lived outdoors doing hard work. He shook their hands as he introduced himself.
    â€œI’m Stan Hooks,” he said, squinting at them.
    â€œHi,” Wally said. “I’m Wally, and this is Kyle. Sorry to just barge in—I know you probably have set visiting times, but—”
    â€œYou’re Wally Stoneman?” Stan wanted to know.
    She was taken aback. “Yes.”
    â€œJake and Ella have told a few stories,” Stan explained. “You’re something of a legend around here.”
    Hearing this, Wally felt a huge rush of emotions: relief, happiness, regret. Jake and Ella still thought of her, and they still cared for her. How had she not known that would be true? Why had she kept herself at a distance from them for so long, when what she needed most in the world was friends she could trust?
    â€œIf it’s all right, I’d like to see them.”
    â€œI’m really sorry,” Stan said. “Most everyone is down in western Pennsylvania for a few days. It’s a 4 H event—they’re showing our hogs and taking some classes. Jake and Ella are going to be really disappointed they missed you.”
    Wally’s heart sank a little. She couldn’t imagine anything better at that moment than to have her friends’ arms around her. To come so close and miss them made her heart ache.
    â€œMe too,” she said. “Let them know I stopped by?”
    â€œI’ll be sure to,” Stan said. “I know it’ll make them happy that you tried.”
    After leaving a short note for her friends, Wally and Kyle got back on the road. Wally felt a wave of sadness as they pulled away, Stan Hooks waving goodbye in the rearview mirror. Her disappointment was obvious enough for Kyle to