Free The Long Way Home by Karen McQuestion Page B

spotted Jazzy standing in front of the tree line, sixty feet away. She had her arms extended and eyes closed, and she was turning slowly, so slowly. Rita was about to call out to her when she was stopped short by the sight of an animal coming boldly out from between two bushes. The words froze in her mouth. The animal, a good-sized doe, stepped deliberately toward Jazzy. Rita sucked in a breath and held it. What a remarkable sight.
    Laverne appeared at Rita’s side and watched the animal approach Jazzy. The deer came right up to Jazzy and nuzzled her hand.
    The two women leaned forward. Laverne leaned over and whispered loudly, “Holy guacamole! A tame deer, what do you think of that?”
    Rita shook her head. “I don’t think it’s tame.” She fixed her eyes on Jazzy, willing her not to move, afraid that even the slightest twitch might scare the deer away.
    “Oh,” Laverne said, the word so soft it was more of an exhale than a verbalization. She lifted her arm and silently pointed to the thicket of trees behind Jazzy where one by one, a group of deer loped out from behind the trees.
    Rita counted. Five, now six, now seven of them. Eight total, all does. They came out in a cluster and stopped just outside the woods, their gaze fixed on Jazzy and the first deer. The sound of a semi pulling out from the other side of the building didn’t spook the animals, although it did startle Rita, who registered the sound right before she got a whiff of exhaust fumes.
    A breeze kicked up and lifted Jazzy’s hair up off her shoulders. It rose and fell with the motion of a tablecloth being shaken out. Jazzy opened her eyes but didn’t seem shocked to see one deer nosing her palm and eight others watching intently. The young woman and doe locked eyes, and then the deer stepped closer. Jazzy stroked its head and murmured something undecipherable. The doe raised its head and nuzzled her shoulder.
    In the parking lot beyond, Rita became aware of the sound of a vehicle pulling into a space and car doors opening and shutting. A small boy yelled, “Mommy! Look at all the deer.” Out of the corner of her eye, Rita saw the boy running toward them. “Just a minute, Tyler,” his mother called, but he wasn’t listening. As the boy got closer, the deer changed from tame creatures to wild animals. Their reaction was physical—heads raised as if sensing danger, bodies turning, legs pumping—their white tails the last thing seen before they disappeared into the woods.
    The little boy turned back in disappointment. “They didn’t wait for me,” he said, wailing.
    “It’s okay, baby,” his mother said. “You can pick out a candy bar in the vending machine.” The family went into the building, passing Marnie as she came out. She walked down the incline and joined Laverne and Rita at the picnic table. “Did I miss anything?” she asked.

Chapter Seventeen
     
    As they approached the Mississippi River on Highway 151, Rita called out, “Once we get to the other side of the river we’ll be out of Wisconsin and into Iowa.”
    Rita looked in the rearview mirror to see Laverne’s face light up like a kid at a county fair. Hard to believe that crossing an invisible line held such significance for a woman that age. Laverne put her palm on the glass as the car made the seamless transition from solid road to bridge. “Oh, it’s so big,” she said, her eyes wide at the sight of the river. “I didn’t know it would be so big.”
    “The mighty Mississippi,” Jazzy said, suction-cupping Garmina to the windshield. “The same one that Huck and Big Jim traveled by raft.”
    Jazzy had made light of her meeting with the deer in the picnic area at the wayside. She admitted it was odd but shrugged it off. Who knew why animals did what they did? Maybe they thought she had food. Rita wasn’t about to let the subject go that easily. She waited until they were firmly in Iowa and the others were occupied: Laverne with her nose pressed to the window