Wild Life Read Free Page A

watched the people around him and wondered how they could stand sitting still for so long. Weren’t their legs twitchy? Didn’t they want to jump up and move around, the way he did?
    He took the items from the seat pocket in front of him and examined the barf bag. The woman beside him gave him a worried smile and asked if he’d like her to get up so he could visit the bathroom. Embarrassed, he said no, returned the bag to the pouch, and tried to keep his body still.
    More embarrassing was the fact that he had been escorted on and would be escorted off the plane by a flight attendant, as if he were a little kid. Even worse than that, he had to wear a badge with “UM” on it, which stood for “Unaccompanied Minor.” He tried to entertain himself by thinking up other things the letters could represent, like “Ugly Moron,” “Upchucking Midget,” “Unbalanced Madman,” and “Unusual Mammal.” This amused him enough so that he chuckled to himself, causing the woman beside him to give him another worried glance. He stared down at his lap, willing the flight to be over.
    After Chicago, he flew to Fargo, North Dakota, and from there to Minot, in a plane so small he felt like he was on an amusement park ride. He spent the whole trip looking out the window at the ground below, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Then he realized that he was actually trying to make sense of what he wasn’t seeing. Where was everything? Maybe, he thought, they were too high in the air for normal things like roads and houses and stores to be visible. But, no, that wasn’t it, because every once in a while he did see a building or a road. They sure looked to be few and far between.
    When the plane was about to land, Erik was astonished to see five jackrabbits hop off the runway. While he thought that was pretty funny and he liked seeing them, he couldn’t help wondering if he’d come to a place with more rabbits than people.
    Minot, he’d learned from the airport loudspeaker, rhymed with “why not.” As he got off the plane and walked across the windy tarmac and into the airport, he could think of a lot of reasons why not.
    At the end of the long hall leading from the airport gate, a tall man wearing jeans and a John Deere cap stood waiting beside a small, thin woman who reminded Erik of a nervous little bird. Even from such a distance, the intense blue of the man’s eyes was striking.
    Erik drew closer, and the woman’s face broke into an anxious smile. He could read her lips as she said, “That’s him.” The man’s face showed no expression. Erik knew these people must be his grandparents, but he didn’t feel related to them at all. His mother had told him to greet them with a hug, but instead he hugged his backpack to his chest as he approached.
    â€œErik Anders Carlson, is that you?” the woman asked.
    All at once Erik felt panicky and thought about shaking his head and walking past. But then what?
    He nodded.
    â€œThank the Lord. I was worried you wouldn’t make it, what with all those stops you had along the way. Why, I could barely make head or tail of that itinerary your momma sent.”
    She said the word itinerary carefully, Erik noticed, as if perhaps she were saying it out loud for the first time.
    â€œWell, now, say hello to your grandfather.”
    â€œHi—” Erik hesitated, embarrassed. His birthday cards were always signed “Oma and Big Darrell.” While he could imagine addressing this somber man as “Sir,” he couldn’t bring himself to say “Big Darrell” to the man’s face.
    But his grandmother was urging, “Go ahead. Call him Big Darrell. Everybody does.”
    â€œHello, B-Big Darrell,” Erik said.
    Big Darrell cleared his throat. “Erik,” he said, in a voice filled with gravel.
    â€œHow come people call you that?” Erik asked