wolves, swallowing food in great chunks, desperate to fill the empty space. They didnât speak until the tide of hunger had gone out and the sugar had reached their brains.
âOoohhhhhhhh,â Ben groaned.
âGood, is it?â Mum asked.
âSo goooood,â he said in a funny, croaky voice, and they all laughed. Even Dad.
Late afternoon sun fell in through the window. The cabin felt brighter than it had that morning. Dad reached into his pocket and banged a small box down on the table in front of Ben.
Ben looked at it and then up at his father.
âOpen it.â
Ben was suspicious. Dad wasnât known for buying presents. He left that to Mum. She even bought her own birthday presents. Ben picked up the box. It was small and plain and gray. Ben wondered if there was some kind of punishment or prank inside. He carefully opened a cardboard flap at one end and let the contents slide out onto his palm. A smile washed over his face. He clutched his fingers around it.
âRay!â Mum said.
âWhat?â Dad asked, wiping mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth.
Mum clicked her tongue and shook her head.
It was a knife. Swiss Army. Red with a white cross. A serious one. Chunky, with metal sides that felt cold on his fingers. Ben flipped out a large blade, then another, smaller one.
âYou think you can take care of it?â Dad asked.
Ben nodded. He flipped out a saw, a tiny pair of pliers, a corkscrew, scissors, a screwdriver, and some small, mysterious, pointy tools. He picked a tiny pair of tweezers and a toothpick out of the side of the knife.
âI want one!â Olive said, sticking her bottom lip out.
âAh, for youâ¦â Dad said, taking a large box out of one of the tall paper shopping bags sitting on the floor behind him. He gave it to Olive, and she did a dance, pretending to play electric guitar with the box. This was the first interaction between Dad and Olive in over a week.
Ben was mesmerized by his knife. When every arm had been folded out he sat and looked at his dazzling red, white, and silver spider. It was the best thing he had ever owned.
âWhat do you say to Dad?â Mum asked, closing up containers, clearing paper plates, throwing them into a plastic garbage bag.
âThanks,â Ben said without looking up. He was already thinking about the raft and how he could cut and saw it with his knife and make it sturdier and take off downstream. He almost started talking about it but something stopped him. He needed to keep his secret world by the river for himself.
âAwesome!â Olive said. She was holding a skateboard with a blue plastic deck and red wheels. She had been asking for one since she was four. Ben wondered where she would ride it out here.
Dad reached into his pocket and placed another small box on the table. âMy love,â he said. Ben looked up. He had only heard his father call Mum âmy loveâ once or twice. It sounded creepy and uncomfortable.
Mum turned from where she was crouched packing food into the ice chest. She stood, eyes wide, looking like a little girl. Dad snapped open the top of the box, and Mumâs eyes kindled. She took what was inside and slipped it onto her finger. It was a ring with a diamond in it.
Mum flung her arms around Dad, kissing him all over the face a thousand times. Ben didnât really like watching his parents kiss.
âDo you realize that this is the first real present youâve bought me in fifteen years?â Mum said. âI paid for dinner the first time we went out. Do you remember? I should have known it was a bad omen.â
Dad pulled a face at her. âAll right,â he said, turning to the big bags on the floor again.
âWhat else?â Mum asked, admiring her ring.
âLook on the front seat,â he said. She went outside, opened the car door, and gave a little shriek. Through the window Ben could see that she was holding two boxes.
Dad
âOoohhhhhhhh,â Ben groaned.
âGood, is it?â Mum asked.
âSo goooood,â he said in a funny, croaky voice, and they all laughed. Even Dad.
Late afternoon sun fell in through the window. The cabin felt brighter than it had that morning. Dad reached into his pocket and banged a small box down on the table in front of Ben.
Ben looked at it and then up at his father.
âOpen it.â
Ben was suspicious. Dad wasnât known for buying presents. He left that to Mum. She even bought her own birthday presents. Ben picked up the box. It was small and plain and gray. Ben wondered if there was some kind of punishment or prank inside. He carefully opened a cardboard flap at one end and let the contents slide out onto his palm. A smile washed over his face. He clutched his fingers around it.
âRay!â Mum said.
âWhat?â Dad asked, wiping mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth.
Mum clicked her tongue and shook her head.
It was a knife. Swiss Army. Red with a white cross. A serious one. Chunky, with metal sides that felt cold on his fingers. Ben flipped out a large blade, then another, smaller one.
âYou think you can take care of it?â Dad asked.
Ben nodded. He flipped out a saw, a tiny pair of pliers, a corkscrew, scissors, a screwdriver, and some small, mysterious, pointy tools. He picked a tiny pair of tweezers and a toothpick out of the side of the knife.
âI want one!â Olive said, sticking her bottom lip out.
âAh, for youâ¦â Dad said, taking a large box out of one of the tall paper shopping bags sitting on the floor behind him. He gave it to Olive, and she did a dance, pretending to play electric guitar with the box. This was the first interaction between Dad and Olive in over a week.
Ben was mesmerized by his knife. When every arm had been folded out he sat and looked at his dazzling red, white, and silver spider. It was the best thing he had ever owned.
âWhat do you say to Dad?â Mum asked, closing up containers, clearing paper plates, throwing them into a plastic garbage bag.
âThanks,â Ben said without looking up. He was already thinking about the raft and how he could cut and saw it with his knife and make it sturdier and take off downstream. He almost started talking about it but something stopped him. He needed to keep his secret world by the river for himself.
âAwesome!â Olive said. She was holding a skateboard with a blue plastic deck and red wheels. She had been asking for one since she was four. Ben wondered where she would ride it out here.
Dad reached into his pocket and placed another small box on the table. âMy love,â he said. Ben looked up. He had only heard his father call Mum âmy loveâ once or twice. It sounded creepy and uncomfortable.
Mum turned from where she was crouched packing food into the ice chest. She stood, eyes wide, looking like a little girl. Dad snapped open the top of the box, and Mumâs eyes kindled. She took what was inside and slipped it onto her finger. It was a ring with a diamond in it.
Mum flung her arms around Dad, kissing him all over the face a thousand times. Ben didnât really like watching his parents kiss.
âDo you realize that this is the first real present youâve bought me in fifteen years?â Mum said. âI paid for dinner the first time we went out. Do you remember? I should have known it was a bad omen.â
Dad pulled a face at her. âAll right,â he said, turning to the big bags on the floor again.
âWhat else?â Mum asked, admiring her ring.
âLook on the front seat,â he said. She went outside, opened the car door, and gave a little shriek. Through the window Ben could see that she was holding two boxes.
Dad
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