Pax, Journey Home by Sara Pennypacker

Author:Sara Pennypacker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Published: 2021-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

Samuel had drawn the short straw and had trudged off through the underbrush to find the feeder springs. Peter and Jade were collecting water and sediment at the main current—a calm, mossy stretch, glinting green.

Jade climbed out and handed Peter a jar. She leaned against a trunk beside the camp table and looked over the water. “This must be the most perfect hundred yards of river ever.”

Labeling the jar, Peter smiled. “Samuel says you say the same thing at every bend. He says, ‘That girl sure loves running water.’”

Jade nodded. “I do love rivers. But I really love this one. Oh, I know it isn’t much in size, as rivers go. Only a dozen feet wide in some places. Enough not to be downgraded to a stream, but not by much, right? What it lacks in size, though, it makes up for in determination.”

“Determination? What do you mean?”

“It’s always moving. Never lets anything stop it up. As if it knows blocked water goes stagnant.”

Peter put down the jar, looking at the river with new interest. He liked listening to Jade.

“And this river is special. See, this one is mine.”

“Yours?”

“My grandparents lived on this river, about sixty miles down. Well, they still do—it’s a tiny little town that didn’t see any battles and everybody had wells, so nobody left. I spent every summer with them when I was a kid. I had a rowboat and I knew every bend, every beaver dam, every swans’ nest. That made it mine.”

Jade took a fresh jar and splashed back in. For an hour, they settled into an easy rhythm. The river murmured quietly in the late afternoon sunshine. It sounded patient, in no hurry. Peter felt he was drifting with its peaceful current.

Until Jade startled him with a tap on his elbow. Peter looked down at the sample case in his hand. “Did I pack this one wrong?”

Jade shook her head and rolled her eyes to a pine bough above them. “See that guy?” she whispered. “The chickadee? I think he’s getting ready to pay us a visit.”

Peter located the bird, at least a dozen feet up, studying them intently. “Well, he’s not afraid, because he’s got wings,” he confirmed. “But I don’t think he’ll get any closer.”

“No, really. He’s been hanging around since we unpacked. He’s curious. If we give him half a chance, he’ll come right over. Watch.” Jade eased a granola bar out of her pocket, held it up as if to show the bird, then peeled down the wrapper with small moves.

She lowered herself cross-legged to the ground and patted a space next to her. Peter put down his marker and eased himself into a comfortable position beside her to watch.

Jade surprised him. “You do it,” she whispered. She broke off a few bits of granola bar and placed them in Peter’s hand, then pocketed the rest. She lifted his arm, palm up. “See? Friends,” she called to the bird. “We can keep talking,” she said to Peter, “but soft and easy, okay? And no sudden moves.

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