Shadow Tree

  “I know dad,” said Alfonso, as he put his arm around his father and squeezed his shoulder. “I know.”

  Leif smiled, but said nothing.

  “Look!” said Alfonso.

  Leif followed Alfonso’s gaze, and saw in the distance a slender gate barring the road.

  Leif smiled. “At last.”

  They quickened their pace and within a few minutes had arrived at the gate. Next to it was a modest blue-and-brown sign that said “U.S. – Canada Border. Please present yourself to the nearest manned border crossing.”

  “It’s a new sign,” Leif remarked. “Very nice.”

  He veered into the woods, followed closely by Alfonso. Without discussing it, they knew their destination by heart, as if it was imprinted in their veins. It was a moss-covered bluff, a little alcove surrounded by old growth forest that provided a wide-lens view of their little part of the world. They had been coming there – he and Alfonso – ever since Alfonso was several months old and strong enough to hold his head up without support. It was their place to watch the world cycle through its seasons, in snow and rain, in the morning and at night.

  Alfonso lagged behind and by the time he had reached the bluff, Leif was already there, staring at the landscape before him. The terrain was unbroken boreal forest, tall pine and birch trees. Directly below lay the four-hundred acre Lake Witekkon – a marvel of glacier scrubbed pristine water. And on the other side of the lake sat the cluster of houses that made up World’s End, Minnesota.

  Leif staggered backwards. Alfonso quickly grabbed and steadied him.

  “Dad – you OK?” he asked.

  Leif said nothing, but then he slowly nodded.

  “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice choking. Leif had thought about this scene – on his favorite bluff overlooking Lake Witekkon – for so many years it seemed impossible to imagine that he was now actually here, instead of just dreaming. He stood by himself and looked at Alfonso.

  “I’m not dreaming,” he said.

  “No,” replied Alfonso softly. “You’re not – and neither am I.”

  They stood there silently for several minutes, and listened to the wind blow through the trees. During all those years away from World’s End, the memory of this exact place had sustained him. This place, and his family.

  They walked along the forest road as it wound its way down to Lake Witekkon. Leif looked at his watch, but realized it had stopped working several weeks ago.

  “When we spoke to your mother, she knew we were coming home today? I’m not confused, am I?”

  Alfonso smiled. “No – this is the day.”

  They had called Judy once they had arrived in North America, despite their fears that the revelation that Leif was alive, and coming home with Alfonso, would be too much of a sudden shock. It was better to call, they reasoned, then showing up unannounced in World’s End. Leif said he wouldn’t allow her to spend one more moment believing that her husband and son were dead. He called her one afternoon, just before they were about to leave. What he said to her, and how she replied, were secrets that Leif would carry with him and treasure to the end of his days. Alfonso remembered back to the last conversation he had with his mother, when he was in the Twin Otter headed for Somnos. He hoped she had forgiven him, but he had no idea what to expect. Only his Dad had spoken with her. Of course, Judy had offered to pick the two of them up at the bus stop – at a lonely crossroads a few miles back – but Leif had been adamant that he wanted to walk the last leg of the trip, on his own two feet, just him and his son.

  They neared the shoreline of Lake Witekkon, in an area of ore-streaked boulders and resilient pine trees that had wound their roots around them. A deep baying call sounded from the forest and seconds later, an enormous wolf bounded out and ran to the lake. The wolf ignored Leif and Alfonso, jumped in, and began happily paddling around in the icy waters.

  It was Korgu, their companion over many hard months. When they had left the lighthouse on the Sea of Clouds, Alfonso was steeling himself to say goodbye to the wolf, but Bilblox surprised him yet again.

  “You’re the closest thing I ever had to a true brother,” Bilblox had said as he picked up Alfonso in a massive hug. “By givin’ you Korgu, I’m ensurin’ that you stay safe. She’s the protective sort, and when she’s with you I breathe easy. That’s the honest truth.”

  And so Korgu joined them on the Canadian Express train that began in the arctic foothills near Fort Krasnik and passed across the boreal shield forest. She was in her element here, in the remote woods of the Canadian-U.S. border. The forests filled with her calls, usually answered by the many gray wolves that roamed the area.

  By the time they reached the driveway that led to their cottage, the sun had risen to its highest point in the sky and had just begun its slow journey to the west. Butterflies and bees picked their way through the many wildflowers that lined the driveway, and hearty grasshoppers contemplated their next jump while holding onto swaying cattails. Alfonso’s legs and arms felt like rubber, as if they couldn’t decide between stopping and sprinting. He vowed to remember every split-second of what was about to occur.

  They both paused in the driveway as the cottage came into view. Leif sternly told himself to get a grip. It would do no one any good for him to start blubbering at this moment. Up ahead, a door slammed.

  Judy appeared at the top of the driveway. She stared at both of them with wide eyes. Her arms trembled, then her legs. Her shoulders dropped suddenly, and she fell to the ground. This broke the spell. Leif and Alfonso dashed up the driveway, with Korgu right behind them. Father and son helped Judy sit up and then all three hugged each other fiercely as they sat on the driveway. They cried and cried, faces against each other so that their tears ran together to moisten the dust of the driveway. No words were spoken – none were needed.

  “Come on inside,” said Judy finally. “Supper is waiting.”