It was Eve’s idea.
“You and Max should go away somewhere together, on your own. A boys’ camping holiday. Just think what fun you’ll have!”
Keith thought what fun they’d have: Max ignoring him, pouring scorn on all his suggestions for activities, glaring stony-faced at his jokes. Laughing while he failed to erect the tent. Pleading to be allowed to return to his mother.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. I’ve never really seen Max as the camping type.”
It had been two years since Lexi Templeton’s kidnapping and rescue; two years since Max had sat in the back of the family’s limousine and admitted to his father that he hated his cousins.
Nonsense, Max. We don’t hate anyone.
That’s what Keith Webster had told his son. But even as he said the words, the thought hit him: He hates me, too. He always has. Up until that day, Keith had never admitted this ugly truth, not even to himself. It was easier to make excuses for Max’s behavior.
He’s overprotective of his mother because she’s so vulnerable.
Because he’s an only child.
Because…
Because…
What had Max’s teacher said? Yes, that was it. Your son is extraordinarily gifted, Dr. Webster. Gifted children often struggled to form attachments. It was nothing to worry about. The boy would grow out of it.
But deep down, Keith Webster knew the truth.
Max hated him.
The only thing he didn’t know was why.
Now, though, Max no longer talked about hating Lexi Templeton. Indeed, in the years since he first visited her in the hospital, the boy seemed to have developed some sort of rapport with his poor, deaf cousin. Friendship would be overstating it. But there was something between the two children, some understanding, a flashing of the eyes whenever they met, that had given Keith Webster hope.
If he can learn to love Lexi, maybe one day he can learn to love me?
Keith hadn’t wanted to go on this camping trip, but thank God he had. God bless Eve! The vacation had changed everything.
At ten years old, almost eleven, Max was still small for his age. He could easily pass for eight or nine, although grown-ups who knew him well-his teachers, his baseball coach, even his uncle Peter-all noted something jarringly adult beneath the boyish exterior. An old soul-that’s what people called him. Around Keith, Max was usually sullen and silent. But with others, he was highly articulate.
Keith waited for his son to pooh-pooh the idea of the “boys’ holiday,” certain that Max would treat it with the same withering scorn he poured on all Keith’s efforts to bridge the emotional gap between them. But incredibly, Max was eager to go.
“Can we, Dad? I’ve never been to South Africa. Lexi and Robert go all the time; it’s supposed to be amazing. Pleeease?”
“You realize Mommy won’t be going.” Keith tried to conceal his surprise. “It would just be you and me.”
“I know, but Mommy’s already been there, loads of times, so I don’t think she minds. Please?”
Keith felt close to tears. Max wanted to go. With him.
He’d even called him Dad.
Was this it? After ten long years, could this really be the turning point?
“Come on, Dad, come over here. Look how high up we are!”
Keith turned to see Max, right at the canyon’s edge, hopping from boulder to boulder like a mountain goat. He’s fearless. Not like me. Clouds snaked around him like cigarette smoke. Occasionally a larger cloud would descend from the heavens and engulf the boy completely. Whenever that happened, Keith felt his heart stop.
“Buddy, I’ve told you, get back from the edge. Quit fooling around like that, it’s not safe.”
Cape Town was the last stop on their great South African adventure, and the only place where they were staying in a hotel rather than camping. Up until now they’d traveled from reserve to reserve and from camp to camp across the Karoo with their guide, Katele, a permanently smiling six-foot Bantu native with the sort of six-pack abs Keith had only ever seen on television commercials for torturous-looking exercise equipment. He looked like an extra from one of the early Tarzan movies. Keith felt weak and inadequate in his presence, but he tried not to show it.
Katele told a wide-eyed Max: “The Great Karoo is the largest natural ecosystem in South Africa-and one of the world’s great scientific wonders. Its rocks contain fossil remains spanning three hundred and ten million years. You can do everything here. Hot-air balloon flights, horseback riding, stargazing. We have some of the best rock climbing in the country.”
“What about the animals?”
Katele grinned. “You won’t be disappointed. We have animals you haven’t even heard of, my friend. Kudu, gemsbok, aardwolf, klipspringer. And plenty that you have: black eagles, baboons, rhinos, mountain zebras.”
“Can you hunt them?”
Keith was shocked. “We’re here to observe beauty, Max, not kill it. I’m sorry, Katele.”
But the guide was on Max’s side.
“It’s quite all right, sir. Of course the boy can hunt if he wishes. I’ll take you to Lemoenfontein. The big-game hunting there is exceptional.”
“Can we, Dad? Pleease?”
“We’ll see,” said Keith.
He did not approve of ten-year-old boys handling guns. In fact, he’d argued with Eve on this very point only days before they left, when she finally admitted to giving Max her grandfather’s pistol.
“He’s never used it, darling,” she assured him. “It’s never even been out of the safe. Besides, it’s so old, I’m sure it doesn’t work anymore.”