Small as an Elephant Read Online Free Page A

back into his tent, changed into his suit, and slipped his phone into his pocket. But as he and Aiden began to leave the site, Aiden seemed to hesitate.
    Jack suddenly saw the site — one little tent, no car — from Aiden’s eyes. “My mom’s gone to get coffee,” Jack said. “Even when she’s sick, she needs coffee.”
    Aiden laughed. “Sounds like my dad,” he said, and turned to lead Jack back to his site.
    Jack had expected to ride in the family car to Echo Lake. Instead, they took the Island Explorer, a free bus that went all around Mount Desert Island.
    “It’s better for the environment. Better for the island,” explained Aiden’s dad. “Cuts down on traffic and exhaust, uses less gas.”
    It wasn’t the environment Jack was thinking about as he bounced a little in his seat, studying the map of the Island Explorer route. He realized that he now had a way — a
free
way — to search for his mom.
    During a lull in the conversation, Jack took out his phone and tried again to reach his mom. This time, he got her voice mail immediately. That meant she had turned off her phone. Which meant that she probably hadn’t driven off the road and gotten stuck in a ditch somewhere.
    Which meant that she could have called him. . . .
    No, it didn’t mean just that one thing. Her battery could have died. If something had happened to her, if she was lying unconscious somewhere, her phone could very well be dead.
    Jack gazed out the window and caught himself looking for tire marks or any other signs that a car had skidded off the road.
    What if she was in trouble? What if she was like that woman who somehow drove into a ravine and survived for a whole week in her car without food? Mom had told him the story. Said the woman had raised her arm out the window and caught rainwater from overhanging leaves. Maybe he should tell someone, like Aiden’s mom or dad. Tell them his mother was missing and was maybe hurt, needing help. Maybe he should tell them right now —
    But he didn’t.
    He didn’t tell them because a car accident was not the likeliest of all the possibilities. The likeliest possibility was that she had just gone off — again.
    The last time had been at home, and he had just stayed in the apartment, and there was food, and there were things to do, and he hadn’t told anyone, and she had come home, and no one had to get involved, and no one asked too many questions, and no one had tried to take him away.
    So Jack didn’t tell Aiden’s parents. But he made a promise to himself: he would look for her, and if he didn’t find her on the island,
then
he would tell someone. Or at least he would think seriously about telling someone.
    He was relieved when the bus pulled into the little parking lot at Echo Lake. There wasn’t anything he could do now — not if he wasn’t going to tell anyone — so he decided he might as well enjoy the few hours they had here.
    They walked down a boardwalk to a small, sandy beach. Aiden’s family gravitated to the far left, at the trees’ edge, where rocks formed a cozy nook and there was shade. Aiden’s dad set up two small beach chairs he’d been carrying. Aiden’s mom spread out a blanket on the sand and unzipped a soft cooler of food. “Would you like something to eat, Jack?” she asked.
    Jack suddenly realized he’d been staring at the cooler and felt his face go warm. His stomach was cavernous, demanding more than a few slices of cheese and salami.
    “Let’s swim first,” said Aiden, turning and running into the water.
    Jack followed reluctantly.
    When they tired of swim races, jumping off rocks (ignoring the KEEP OFF THE ROCKS sign like everyone else), and trying to do backflips in the water, they staggered back to the blanket. Aiden’s mom had spread out tuna fish sandwiches, grapes, apples, carrots, chips, pickles, and double-chocolate brownies. Jack couldn’t remember a time when food had tasted so good. She slipped another sandwich onto his plate without