Even when we’re in the car, driving out of Idaho and into Washington, he doesn’t pay any attention to us. That’s no fun.

‘Felix, where did you put the phone charger?’ I ask.

He doesn’t even look at me. ‘You had it last.’

‘No. You did.’

‘Well, I don’t have it now.’

Felix’s tone is sharp enough to get Eddie’s attention. He glances away from the road and at me. ‘Plenty of chargers around. You can use mine.’ Eddie nods toward the center console.

I reach over to get it, glaring at Felix in the process.

‘Asshole.’ I say this under my breath. Felix doesn’t respond.

I lean back in my seat, plug in the portable charger, and put on my headphones. The first text I get is from Portia.

You guys okay?

I say:

Yeah, just cabin fever.

We all have it. Not much longer now.

No, not much longer.

Thank God.

My mind has already started to drift to the end, to the desert.

Knowing where the trip ends is the biggest difference between the first trip and this one. Last time, we thought we were going all the way to the edge of California. This time we know we never made it that far, and I’ve still never been in that state. I’ve also never been back to Nevada.

Felix starts to eat a bag of chips, which normally wouldn’t bother me. Today I decide it does. ‘Do you have to be so loud?’ I say.

He rattles the bag, making even more noise.

‘Really?’ I say.

‘Yep. Really.’ He puts a whole chip in his mouth and bites down hard, crunching unnecessarily with his mouth open. If we weren’t pretending to be in a fight, that would piss me off.

‘Nice,’ I say.

‘All right,’ Eddie says, putting up a hand like a referee. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with you guys, but you sound like children.’

I admit we’re trying to provoke a response, I just didn’t realize how patronizing Eddie would be. Now I do want to argue.

‘No worse than you and Krista,’ I say.

‘Ouch,’ Portia says, leaning forward like she wants a better view. ‘She got you there.’

‘She didn’t “get” me.’ Eddie throws her a dirty look in the rearview mirror. ‘She’s wrong. Krista and I argue but we don’t sound like five-year-olds.’

‘Yeah, your arguments were really mature,’ I say.

Eddie slams on the brakes and pulls off the road. He turns around, his blue eyes lit up like meteorites. ‘Look,’ he says. ‘I’ve tried my best with you. I’ve tried to be as accommodating as I know how, as laidback as …’ Portia opens her mouth to speak but Eddie silences her. ‘Other than one night in jail, I’ve done everything I can to make this trip easy, including paying more than my fair share.’ He looks at Portia.

She shrugs. Doesn’t argue.

‘Maybe you don’t like me,’ he says. ‘Maybe all of you hate me. Fine. I don’t care. We don’t have to be friends. We don’t even have to talk. What we have to do is get through this.’ He stops, takes a breath. ‘That’s it. Let’s just get through this.’

What do you see when you look in the mirror?

Someone who is screwed.

Someone who was too stupid to realize her own brother would align with the enemy. Of course he would. Of course. It’s Beth’s fault and it’s my fault and neither one of us should have forgotten how easy it is for someone to sneak up on you when you aren’t looking.

Like sperm. Those little things just sneak right up into you and bam, you’re pregnant.

Or like that guy following us. I’m still the only one who knows about him.

Washington

State Motto: Bye and bye

For the rest of the drive, Felix and I speak only in essential terms.

I’m hungry.

I have to go to the bathroom.

Roll up/down the window.

Felix and I don’t even text.

We do, however, keep an eye out for the truck. No one has seen it for a long time, and maybe it’s gone forever, but looking for it gives us something to do.

I also keep an eye out for the van.

It’s like this all the way to Colfax, Washington, home of the Codger Pole, and this is where Grandpa brought us instead of the amusement park. The pole is sixty-five feet high, made of wood, and it was carved with a chainsaw. I see the pole long before we get there, but I don’t point it out to Felix. I wait until we park and walk up to it, so he can see it up close. He stares at it, up it, around it.

‘Are those … faces?’ he says.

‘They are,’ Eddie says.

‘Of football players?’

‘Indeed,’ Portia says. ‘The Codger Pole is a giant phallic memorial to a football game.’

True.

The Colfax Bulldogs and the St John Eagles played against each other in 1938, and St Johns won. Fifty years later, in 1988, they played again. With the same team.

Yes, they were about seventy years old, and yes, they played a game called the Codger Bowl. Colfax won, and all the players got their faces carved into a big pole. It’s actually an amazing structure to see when you’re standing in front of it, so there is that.

We aren’t the only people here to see it, either. There are other tourists around, taking selfies and family photos in front of the pole.

‘You came here instead of the theme park?’ Felix says.

I avoid looking at Eddie. ‘Not my choice.’

Eddie says nothing. Acts like he did nothing.

In truth, it’s been a long time since I thought about how we ended up here instead of on the roller coasters, but his betrayal has always been in the back of my mind. It’s why I would never fully trust him.

Back then, I don’t know how Grandpa found this place in a world without smartphones, but he did. Maybe he had it all mapped out before he took us on this trip.

I can see Grandpa smiling now that he was back in charge, with Eddie right by his side. The three of us, the girls, lagged behind.

‘Just wait,’ Grandpa said. ‘You’re going to love this.’

I already hated it, partly because it wasn’t a roller coaster. Partly because of Nikki. She stood next to me, her whole body radiating anger, and I felt it the way you feel a chill. If I were her, I’d be angry at Eddie. He was the one who had betrayed her, who had betrayed all of us. We were supposed to stick together.

Grandpa stood next to the plaque by the pole. His smile looked wicked.

‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘Read it.’

Nikki didn’t just read it – she read it out loud for everyone to hear. I still remember parts of it, especially the last sentence.

The ghosts of our youth revealed glimpses of gridiron brilliance, unfortunately brief and few but even so, that glorious afternoon of fun gave us guys a chance to fulfill that dream every seventy-year-old kid secretly hangs onto: playing one more game.

And how many old rascals ever get to do that?

John Crawford

Codger Pole Dedication

September 15, 1991

Nikki finished reading and looked up at Grandpa. ‘This is what you brought us to see?’