Page 24 of Places We've Never Been

“But it’s funny.” Skyler was scared of heights and that fear even extended to two-dimensional viewing. His poor characters never stood a chance on a level that took place in the sky with no protective barriers on the edges of the rainbow track. “Do you think you’ll be able to drive by cliffs when you can drive for real?”

He’d bumped my shoulder with his. “Do you think you’ll be able to shoot turtle shells out of your car?”

“I hope.”

“Me too.”

As we continued to walk, I’d heard the barking and growling first, coming from behind us. I turned to see a dog that looked as big as a wolf charging at us.

Skyler had taken my hand and pulled me into a sprint. “Keep running,” he yelled. “Don’t stop.”

I didn’t know if he had always been guiding us toward the fenced-in front yard ahead or if he’d seen it as we ran, but he didn’t slow as we approached and he boosted me over before climbing over himself.

I turned in time to see the dog jump toward the chain-link fence. I thought for sure it was going to clear it, but instead it ran right into it with a loud crashing rattle, its teeth bared and saliva foaming at its snout. And that’s when I’d felt the warm liquid trickle down the inside of my leg and puddle in the dirt at my foot.

Skyler didn’t laugh even though I knew he saw what I’d done. We just waited until the dog got bored and wandered away. We waited until we were sure it was gone and then he helped me back over and we’d walked home, my shoe emitting a sloshy squeak with each step.

“Are you okay?” he’d asked in front of my house.

“I’m sorry I make fun of you on the rainbow level,” I’d whispered, close to tears.

He was facing me and squeezed my arms. “The dog scared me, too, Norah.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” His words had made me feel better that day.

Now, here at the picnic table in Death Valley, his words were digging into my heart. “And then she peed all over” was how he finished the shortened version of the story.

Everyone laughed.

“Is that why you’re scared of dogs?” Ezra asked.

I forced a chuckle. “Yeah.” I was glad I only said the one word because I could feel the lump in my throat restricting my air. When I finally looked at Skyler, I was sure I wasn’t hiding the hurt in my eyes this time. His expression softened a degree and a hint of regret shone in his eyes. Not enough for me to forgive him.

“I forget you probably have tons of good stories on Norah,” Ezra said. “We need to keep you around.”

Austin looked at me. “I bet you have some good ones on my brother too. Spill.”

“She has tons,” Skyler said. Now he was ready to walk down memory lane?

“I can’t think of any,” I said, standing. “That was a whole different lifetime ago.”

“Where are you going?” Ezra asked.

“I’m tired. Mom has a full day planned tomorrow.”

“She said that?”

I nodded and, trying to bring back my teasing voice so nobody thought I was fleeing because of Skyler’s story, whispered, “She said she wishes she hadn’t booked us here for only one night.”

“Frick,” Ezra said. “She’s right, we’re doing too much tomorrow, people. Mom! We don’t need to see everything!”

“Once in a lifetime!” Mom called back from where she and Olivia stood returning several bags to the side storage.

I laughed, or tried to, and left, sketch pad in hand. I had almost reached the door to our RV when I felt a brush at my elbow. I turned and Skyler stood there.

“What?” I asked, taking a step backward.