“I’ll get it,” John said, with an amused air in his voice. He lay down on his back and slid himself under the car.
“Hey, Dad...there’s a problem,” John said.
“What now?”
John crawled out, pulling the spare with him. “Something must have bounced up and punctured it.” Sure enough, there was a ragged gouge in the tire. Flat and useless.
Rich heaved a weight-of-the-world sigh. “Fuck. Why would they leave the spare exposed to the elements like that?”
“Rich, please don’t curse in front of the kids.”
He looked up, distracted. “Sorry.”
Billy was wandering around exploring with Scruffy while Sally sat on a rock, reading her magazine.
“Sally, watch your brother.” Rich instructed her. “Billy, don’t wander off; come back here.”
“It’s Will—stop calling me Billy. I’m too old for that.”
“Not now, Billy,” Sonia answered. “Just stay by the van.”
Rich stared at the two flat tires, considering his options.
“Well, I guess we can try triple-A now,” he relented. Sonia retrieved the cell phone from her purse and brought it to him without a word. He pulled out the antenna and punched the pre-keyed roadside emergency number, but it didn’t ring. He looked incredulously at the small digital screen as it mocked him with a flashing “NO SIGNAL.” Biting back a fresh curse, he drew back his arm, ready to hurl the useless piece of plastic into the wilderness, but stopped himself short and handed it back to Sonia instead. After a silent moment, she asked him, “Now what, Rich?”
“Give me a minute. I need some water.”
He retrieved a liter bottle from the cooler behind the driver’s seat and listened to the ice clunk around inside as he considered their situation. The water was refreshing. He swallowed slowly, recapped the icy bottle, and pressed it against his forehead. Sweat was running down his face already.
The road they were on was a small secluded one, just what he’d hoped for when the Indian told him about it, but bad for them now. He didn’t remember seeing any cars pass by them since they’d turned off. He pulled out the directions he’d jotted down on the Burger King napkin and looked them over. There should be a service station ahead; that would have been their next turn. Looked like he had a walk ahead of him.
“Okay everybody, listen up. According to the directions that old Indian gave me, there’s a service station up the road a ways. I figure I can walk there in a couple of hours, maybe make it before dark. I’ll buy a new tire there and get a ride back.”
“Sounds good, Dad. Let’s go.” John volunteered.
“No, I’m going alone. I think it’s safer if you all stay here together; I can manage a short walk by myself.”
“But Dad, I’m the track star.” He puffed his chest slightly while Sally rolled her eyes heavenward behind him.
“Sprints and pole vault remember?” she chided. “Not distance.” Under her breath she added, “And not very good at that.”
Rich gathered his patience. “I want you to stay here and watch after your Mom and brother and sister. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Now Sonia spoke up. “Rich, I wish you’d just stay here with us. Somebody’s sure to come along soon.”
“Sonia, how many cars have we seen in the last hour? What if no one comes along? And if they do, just grab a ride with them and pick me up on your way. I’ll be walking along the road the whole way.”
Ignoring the protesting looks from his wife, Rich grabbed a small duffel with a shoulder strap, emptied the contents into the back of the van, loaded it up with a couple of bottles of water, a sandwich and a flashlight, and slung it over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon and we’ll be on our way. I love you.” And with that he kissed Sonia, waved at the kids, and was off.
Sonia watched with a growing sense of dread as the sun sank towards the horizon. An hour and a half since he’d left, Rich still hadn’t returned and no cars had passed by. At least Rich had thought to take a flashlight with him; it might be dark before he got back. Sonia watched the boys playing Frisbee with Scruffy, the dog barking playfully as they tossed it over his head in a game of keep-away. Sally had retreated back into the van to read her magazine in the passenger seat.
The full moon had risen, impatient for night to come, and Sonia kept glancing furtively up at it. It reminded her of a cruel eye staring down at them. Sonia shivered, turning in place and once again taking in the desolation surrounding her. Rich loved the desert, always saying how beautiful and untamed it was, but Sonia shared none of his reverence for it. She was city born and bred, and she got very uncomfortable when there wasn’t at least a building in sight. She hadn’t wanted to take this trip at all, but Rich had been so excited about it—and he always had the last word.
She had to admit, once they got going, she was glad they’d come. It had been a good trip before the blowout, even if Rich was constantly complaining about the kids’ disinterest. Any time she had with her family all together made her happy. It would only be a few more years before John and Sally were both off to college, God knew where. She hated the thought of losing her kids, but they had to grow up sometime, didn’t they? Maybe she’d go back to work then.
Sonia wiped the sweat from her brow, then noticed that the luggage was still piled on the ground, so she walked around to load it back into the van. “Boys, come help me load the bags, it’ll be getting dark soon.”
John made one last long throw out into the distance. “Go fetch it, boy!” Scruffy raced out after it, barking as he went, disappearing over a small rise.
John started back, but Billy waited expectantly for Scruffy to return with the well-chewed Frisbee clenched in his teeth.
“Come on Billy, let’s stay together,” Sonia called.
He looked back at her and said, “It’s Will, Mom.” Then he looked towards the desert. “I’m waiting for Scruffy.”
Sonia froze as she heard Scruffy’s barking take on a frantic edge. The barks became yelps, then stopped abruptly.
“Boys, get back to the van, now!”
Billy didn’t seem to hear her, still staring into the desert. “Scruffy?” he called. “C’mere boy!”
John went back to collect his brother. Sonia detected movement just over the rise Scruffy had run over; maybe he was coming back. But there was more movement than one little dog could make. A dozen furry, reddish-brown forms crested the horizon, blending with their surroundings. The dog-sized animals were too small to be wolves, but she thought they might be coyotes.
She’d read an editorial in the paper not long ago about coyotes getting to be as bad as rats, their population growing since man had killed off most of the wolves that normally hunted them. They were spreading all over the country, even adapting to urban areas, living off garbage and begging for handouts. Sonia and Rich had been followed by one for blocks one night when they’d walked home carrying doggy bags from the restaurant he’d taken her to. It had seemed almost cute at the time—until the next week when she’d read about a coyote attacking a man in an alley who wouldn’t give it a handout.
“Billy, get back here now!” Her voice was strained with sudden fear.
The animals came on slowly, teeth bared, hackles raised, approaching on an extended front toward her sons. They were small, perhaps thirty or forty pounds each, but their eyes flashed with a menacing, feral-yellow shine. They came on slowly, yet determined, growling. She shut the back hatch, leaving the rest of the bags on the ground, then edged cautiously around to the side door.
“Billy,” John said, “don’t turn around, walk backwards to the van slowly. Don’t run; don’t show any fear.” He looked around for something on the ground, then bent and picked up a large stick.
Still moving slowly, the pack was headed directly for Billy. He took a few cautious steps backwards, but then fear got hold of him. He turned and started running back to the van. “No!” John yelled. The coyotes charged.