The Chief of Rally Tree by Jennifer Boyden

Author:Jennifer Boyden
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781510732704
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2018-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Again, the phone. Barely five-thirty. Roal gripped the pillow and considered groaning, but with no one to hear, it seemed excessive and useless. The phone fell silent. Roal needed another thirty minutes, minimum. He closed his eyes.

Forty-five minutes later, Chet snapped the blinds open in Roal’s bedroom with a crisp, zipping sound, and Roal turned over, confused. The room was bright. Six fifteen.

“Turn it on,” Chet said, thrusting the remote at Roal. “You’ve got to see this. It’s a feature!” Roal stared at Chet, whose presence and words were still ungraspable, distant. Chet waved the remote at Roal, and Roal held out his hand for it, then turned on the television and sank back onto his pillow, making the slow, exaggerated blinks of the newly awoken. Chet laid out coffee and donuts on the table next to Roal before sitting down.

“It’s from ten years ago. But there might be a clue.” Roal started to ask a question, but Chet hissed for silence. The morning news was covering traffic. There was none. It moved onto weather. Clear everywhere. Upcoming stories would cover the sinkhole which swallowed three cars and a burger store in Georgia, oil in the lungs of another whale herd washed up on shore, and transgender shoe outlets that found a retail niche in Utah. Roal wasn’t following along. Whenever he looked at Chet, Chet pointed at the television, waiting. And then, there it was: at seven, the morning show would dedicate itself to a recently submitted interview with Winter Patent, the last one he gave before heading off to the exile of his forest project.

Roal had ten minutes before the show, so showered quickly. The pink T-shirt’s glow was aggressive and bubble-gum nauseating from atop the bathroom hamper. He regarded it with a sinking feeling. He didn’t know how to wear it again. His proclamation from the day before now seemed far away and spiteful in its consequence: the joke would be on him. Roal grabbed the shirt savagely and thrust his arms through.

“Your Lin Strickland is in for some weather!” Chet called, watching another news segment erupt around her story.

Roal stepped into the bedroom, and Chet looked over sharply.

“What’s that you’re wearing?” Chet asked. Roal thought quickly.

“It’s . . . it’s part of the plan.”

“What—does Dina have breast cancer?” Chet tried to ask this lightly, but his voice hitched with concern.

“No.” Roal shook his head. “Not that. The shirt is a sign. A way to easily identify me if someone is looking for me.” Chet looked impressed.

“So, is the plan going to get rough?”

“Dad, Winter has a whole section in his book dedicated to keeping the pack strong. No matter what it takes, he says, you know?” Chet looked confused. Roal reminded him, “I’m not in the pack, Dad.”

“Right—I know. So what, is the shirt supposed to help them keep track of you?”

“We hope.” Roal turned away from Chet. He didn’t know how to compose his face so Chet would stop searching it. Thinking of Helen, Roal added, “Plus, the shirt’s for a worthy cause.

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